One Little Lie
by theboywiththebread
Summary: When a car accident causes Yao to develop amnesia, Ivan lies and tells him that the two of them were lovers before he lost his memories. But as with any complex web of falsehoods, it's only a matter of time until it all falls apart. AU. RussiaxChina.
1. Just Tonight

**Author's note: this story (and this very chapter, actually) is rated M for a reason, and contains sexual content. Now that you know that, you can make an informed decision about whether or not you still want to read it. Also, this being an AU in which the people-who-are-countries are portrayed as people-who-are-just-people, the character's human names are used. For those of you who are unfamiliar with said names, all you really need to know so far is that Yao = China and Ivan = Russia.**

**If you'd like to read this story in Spanish or Chinese, there are links to the translations on my profile.**

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><p>Yao's hands gripped the bedsheet so hard he could feel his nails digging into his palm through the thin layer of material. He could feel the same sheet beneath him, moist with perspiration and surprisingly cool against his bare skin. He could feel the weight of another person on top of him, a man who he had only met a few hours ago and whose touch now had Yao moaning and panting and grabbing at sheets.<p>

If Yao had been asked in the morning what his plans for that night were, he probably would have said cooking dinner for himself and perhaps watching a movie if there were any good ones on TV. Even when his coworkers insisted that he join them in going out for the evening, he still figured that he would be at home, sitting in front of the TV in his pyjamas by midnight. At no point had his plan involved sex with a complete stranger.

His coworkers — his friends, he supposed — had insisted that they go out for drinks. Yao wasn't too fond of alcohol, but they served food at the bar too and he wasn't the one paying, so there was no harm in going. That was where he had met Ivan, the tall Russian man who was now on top of him and inside of him. Yao had noticed him sitting alone and downing shots of vodka by himself, and since by that point Yao's companions were too drunk to be good company, he decided to approach the bigger man and strike up a conversation. This proved to be a good decision. Ivan could evidently hold his liquor better than Yao's other friends, since despite the immense amount of alcohol Yao saw him consume, he didn't act drunk at all. He was nice, he was friendly, and when he asked if Yao wanted to go somewhere else to get something to eat, Yao accepted the offer.

The place that Ivan had had in mind was closed, but it was in the suburb where Yao lived, and so he asked the Russian to come to his place to eat — Yao was quite proud of his culinary skills, and he didn't often get to show them off to anyone other than his family. However, Yao never got the chance to cook for Ivan. As soon as they were inside Yao's house, Ivan grabbed him in a passionate embrace and planted a firm but tender kiss on the smaller man's lips. After that, it had all happened so fast — Yao had kissed him back, they had somehow found themselves in the bedroom, their clothes had come off and suddenly the two of them were on the bed, using the piece of furniture in a way that Yao had never envisioned — certainly not with someone who he had only just met.

Their bodies moved together in an identical rhythm until a moan from Ivan and a particularly loud cry from Yao signalled that the intimacy had reached its crescendo. Yao finally released his grip on the sheet as Ivan pulled out and lay down beside the smaller man.

"So," Ivan said, softly kissing Yao on the cheek, "how was it?"

"Amazing," Yao said breathlessly.

Ivan smiled. "You were so _loud_," he said, kissing Yao again, "but so good."

Yao blushed, but even as he thought back on the experience that he and the Russian had just shared, his mind started to wander. How long would it be before Ivan left? In a few minutes or in the morning? Yao didn't want him to go just yet.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" he asked.

Ivan nodded. "I'd like that."

Yao breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do you still want something to eat?" he asked.

"Not really," said Ivan, "you are far more satisfying than any meal could ever be. But perhaps in the morning…"

"Perhaps what? Perhaps I could cook for you, or perhaps we could do _that _again?" asked Yao.

Ivan grinned at him. "Perhaps both."

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><p>It was Ivan who woke first in the morning. Yao's head was resting on his chest and so he couldn't really move without waking the other up, but he was perfectly content to watch the man in his arms sleep. Ivan ran his hand through Yao's long, silky hair and gently kissed his forehead — and one of those movements woke him.<p>

Yao's eyelids gently fluttered open, and he smiled weakly at Ivan before closing them again.

"Go back to sleep, it's too early to be awake," he mumbled.

"You don't even know what time it is," said Ivan.

Yao yawned. "It's early."

"It's nine o'clock," Ivan said as he glanced at the glowing red numbers on the clock on the bedside table.

"It's Saturday, right?" asked Yao.

"Da," said Ivan.

Although Yao didn't speak Russian, he seemed to understand what Ivan was saying. "Good, that means I don't have work today."

"Where do you work?" asked Ivan.

Yao mumbled something unintelligible, burying his head in the other's chest.

"Not a morning person, are you?" Ivan asked.

"Not really," muttered Yao, "I was going to cook breakfast for us, wasn't I? Ugh, I'm too tired for that, do you mind if I just make toast?"

"If you're that tired you don't have to make anything — you can go back to sleep if you want," said Ivan.

"I think that's a good idea. Wake me in ten minutes and then I'll make us breakfast," said Yao, closing his eyes.

It wasn't long before his breathing changed and Ivan knew that he was asleep.

Ivan thought that Yao looked particularly cute and innocent while sleeping. He loved the way that the smaller man had his arms wrapped around him, the way he laid his head on his chest. The peaceful expression on Yao's sleeping face was adorable.

Ivan didn't really make a habit of having casual sex with random strangers, but he had done this sort of thing before. Physically, what he had done with Yao was nothing new — but somehow it was. The way he felt about it was different. His feelings about Yao consisted of more than just the desire to sleep with him. At first it had been no more than that, when he first saw Yao's pretty face and the shape of the slim body hidden beneath his clothes, but somehow that had changed. Perhaps it was their conversations, perhaps it was the sex or perhaps it was watching Yao sleep, Ivan didn't know why. He barely knew what he was feeling — could it be love?

Was he falling in love with Yao?

He had always thought the idea of love at first sight was stupid — how could you fall for someone the second you saw them if you didn't know what they were like at all? — but maybe love less than twelve hours after meeting someone was possible. It might be if they talked to you as if they had known you for years and shared their body with you and then held onto you throughout the night.

Ivan closed his eyes. He didn't know if he was in love, all he knew was that he loved feeling the warmth of Yao's body against his own and could spend an eternity lying with him like this.

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><p>Yao woke again, fully rested this time, and looked at the clock. The bright red numbers proclaimed that it was 11:16, two hours since he had fallen asleep. He turned to look at Ivan, assuming that he too was sleeping, but found himself looking into the Russian's open — and thus awake — eyes.<p>

"Privet, Yao," Ivan said, kissing the smaller man on the lips.

Yao blushed, suddenly very aware of the way that his bare skin was touching Ivan's equally naked body.

"Why didn't you wake me earlier? I was going to cook something for you. You must be starving if you've been awake for hours and haven't eaten anything!" said Yao.

"I'm fine. As I said last night, you are far superior to any meal that I could ever hope to eat," said Ivan.

"Even so, you still need to eat — and I don't mean to brag, but I am a very good cook," said Yao.

"Well, if your food tastes anywhere near as good as your kisses, then I am in for a real treat!" said Ivan.

Yao kissed Ivan ever so lightly before wriggling out of his embrace and climbing out of bed. "I'll go have a shower and then I'll make breakfast for you," said Yao.

"Could I use your shower too?" asked Ivan.

"Of course. If you'd like, we could shower together," suggested Yao.

"I would like that very much," said Ivan.

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><p>Despite the obvious sexual implications of asking Ivan to shower with him, Yao seemed determined to wash his hair without being distracted by the Russian's constant touches and kisses.<p>

"Ya-ao! I know your hair is beautiful but it can't take that long to wash it!" Ivan complained, playfully grabbing at Yao's butt.

Yao swatted his hand away and continued rinsing the shampoo out of his long, dark hair. Ivan rather reminded him of a child whining for attention. Being the oldest of several siblings, Yao was rather experienced in dealing with such children — ignoring them until you were ready to deal with them showed them that they couldn't expect you to drop everything the second they wanted something. Of course, Ivan wasn't a child, and Yao _had_ sort of implied that their shower together would involve more than just washing.

Yao grabbed a bottle of body wash and squirted a reasonable amount of it into his hands. He began to lather his chest with it, moaning at his own touch — as Ivan had said before, he was loud, and it didn't take much to make him moan.

"Ivan," he said seductively, "I need you to help me with this."

Ivan eagerly grabbed a washcloth and started rubbing Yao's chest with it, gradually moving the cloth downwards until it reached the smaller man's rather obvious arousal. Yao gasped and pressed his groin against Ivan's hand.

Ivan dropped the cloth, which landed on the floor of the shower with a loud, wet slap. He wrapped his fingers around Yao's erection and began moving his hand up and down. Yao grew even louder in response, his wordless moans interlaced with frantic cries of Ivan's name. It pleased Ivan to see Yao like this, knowing that it was his own touches that caused Yao to moan and blush and move his hips like that, knowing that at that moment, he was the only thing on Yao's mind.

Yao thrust forward one last time and released himself into Ivan's hand. He clung to the other for a moment afterward, and then, realizing that he had been digging his nails into Ivan's back, let go. Yao stumbled backwards into the wall of the shower, accidentally causing the warm water that had been pouring down on them to be replaced with cold. Yao flinched at the sudden change in temperature and quickly turned the water off.

"So cute," murmured Ivan.

"What?" asked Yao.

"You're so cute, Yao," said Ivan.

"No I'm not," said Yao, getting out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist.

"But you are," said Ivan.

"But I'm _not_," Yao protested, turning on the hair dryer and starting to dry his hair.

Ivan decided not to argue with Yao, even though when he tried to deny his obvious cuteness it just made him seem even cuter. Besides, with the hairdryer on he probably wouldn't even hear.

Once again, Ivan found himself content to just watch Yao. The hairdryer blew his long, dark, oh-so-soft-to-touch hair about his face, and the hand not holding the hairdryer clutched the towel to his waist to keep it from slipping down, even though Ivan was the only other person in the room and he had already seen everything that the towel was covering.

Once Yao had finished drying his hair, he dried the rest of his body with the towel and put on a bathrobe before walking out of the room. Ivan tried to follow him, but Yao firmly pushed him back into the bathroom.

"I am _not_ having you drip water all over my house, Ivan," said Yao.

He grabbed a towel and chucked it to Ivan before walking out of the room. The Russian quickly dried himself off before following Yao to the bedroom directly across the hall, where he lay down on the bed and watched the smaller man dress.

"Are you going to put some clothes on?" Yao asked as he tied his hair back in a ponytail. He'd been wearing his hair like that last night when Ivan had first met him.

"I suppose," said Ivan, as Yao helpfully gathered up the clothes that he had discarded last night and handed them to him.

A few minutes later they were both fully dressed, Yao in a simple shirt and pants, and Ivan in the coat-scarf-and-gloves ensemble that he had been wearing the night before.

"Do you really need all of that? My house isn't freezing or anything," Yao said.

"It isn't, I'm just very sensitive to the cold," said Ivan.

"But aren't you from Russia? It's very cold there, so you should be used to it," said Yao.

"Maybe that's why I left," said Ivan.

It wasn't. Ivan had left Russia for several reasons, the first and foremost being to get away from his younger sister and her crush on him that bordered on obsession. It had been cute when, as a toddler, Natalia always talked about how much she loved her big brother and how she was going to marry him when they grew up. If it had ended there, it would have been something that they could look back on and fondly remember — but, of course, it hadn't. Natalia had been just as obsessed with her older brother at the age of sixteen as she had been as a child, only now it was creepy instead of cute. Ivan couldn't take it any more, and left. Even his older sister Anastasiya, the only person from his old life in Russia that he really missed, agreed that it was probably for the best. Perhaps without Ivan there, Natalia would get over her obsession and maybe even regain some semblance of sanity.

"Ivan?" asked Yao.

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright? You were sort of staring at… well, nothing," said Yao.

"Oh, I was just thinking," said Ivan.

"Okay. Anyway, it's time for breakfast. Do you like Chinese food?" asked Yao.

"Da, I do. Are we going to order some?" asked Ivan.

"Of course not! I said I was going to cook for you," said Yao, looking rather offended.

He walked down the hall into the kitchen, noticing that Ivan didn't kiss or touch him as he left the room. Perhaps there was some unspoken rule when it came to one night stands that once you were dressed, you went back to being acquaintances who didn't do that sort of thing.

"It'll be a while before breakfast is ready, so feel free to amuse yourself however you want," Yao called up the hall to Ivan.

He couldn't help but hope that Ivan's chosen method of amusing himself was coming down to the kitchen to chat with him as he cooked. He was already beginning to miss the taller man's soft kisses and the way that he looked at him as if he was something special. Yao sighed. He was too sentimental. What they had done probably didn't mean as much to Ivan as it did to him.

If he only knew how wrong he was.

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><p>Yao could hear amused laughter coming from his room. He knew that Ivan was in there, probably doing something on the computer since he had asked Yao for the password a while ago, but he didn't think there was anything particularly funny on it, especially considering he'd already used up the month's internet quota.<p>

"Ivan, what are you doing?" Yao asked, opening the door.

"Killing people!" was Ivan's cheerful reply.

"What?" Yao asked, but as soon as he glanced at the computer screen, he understood.

Ivan had found Yao's copy of _The Sims_, and was watching two sims swim around in a pool without any ladders — he had evidently figured out pretty quickly that they couldn't simply climb out without them. In a door-less room in the corner of the screen there was an urn, several piles of ashes and, oddly enough, a double bed with a heart-shaped headboard.

"You seem to be having a lot of fun," said Yao.

"I am!" said Ivan.

"Well, if you can tear yourself away from the game, you should come down to the dining room. Breakfast is ready," said Yao.

"I'll just pause it — I wouldn't want them to drown while I'm not watching," said Ivan. Even though the way he said it made it sound as if he was concerned about the safety of his virtual people, Yao knew that he really meant that he would rather they drown while he _was_ watching.

Breakfast consisted of rice which was flavoured with something (Ivan couldn't tell what it was) that made it very delicious and a bowl of something that Ivan didn't recognise either but found to be very tasty anyway.

"You're so good at cooking, Yao," Ivan commented through a mouthful of food.

"Thank you, I really like cooking. My dream is to someday open a restaurant," said Yao.

"You should. I'd eat there all the time," said Ivan.

"I'd love to, but it'd cost a lot of money to get it set up, and I really don't earn enough for that," said Yao.

"Where do you work?" Ivan asked.

"I'm a campaign worker for John Soates," said Yao.

"The politician guy?" asked Ivan.

"Yeah. What about you? What do you do?" asked Yao.

"I'm sort of between jobs at the moment," said Ivan.

"Well, fair enough," said Yao. "If you want I can drive you home. Not that I'm saying you have to leave right away, I'm just… when you do leave, you don't need to walk or anything."

"I probably should go home soon, shouldn't I? But we should keep in touch. I'd quite like to get to know you better," said Ivan.

"That sounds like a good idea. It'd be nice to get to know each other a bit, especially considering we just did… what we did, and I don't even know your last name!" said Yao.

"It's Braginsky," said Ivan.

"_Ivan Braginsky_. It suits you, and it has a nice ring to it," said Yao, "my last name is Wang, if you were wondering."

"Wang?" asked Ivan.

"Yes, Wang. It's a Chinese surname, and it means _king_," said Yao.

"Ah, but in English it means—"

"Yes, it's a slang term for penis, I know," said Yao.

"Yao…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For the food and the sex and… everything," said Ivan.

"You don't have to thank me for that," said Yao.

"I just want you to know that I appreciated it," said Ivan.

"So did I," said Yao, and Ivan knew he wasn't talking about the food, "but you probably want to go home now, so… I'll get the car out of the garage and you can go make sure you didn't leave anything in my room."

_I don't want to go,_ thought Ivan. He wanted to stay with Yao for as long as possible instead of returning to his big, empty apartment alone. However, he figured that Yao would find him clingy if he stayed for too long, so he didn't say what he was thinking.

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><p>"So, where am I taking you?" Yao asked as Ivan climbed into his car.<p>

"I live on Pierce Street, so there would be good," said Ivan.

Yao backed out of the driveway and onto the street, humming along to the music that was playing. Ivan wasn't sure if it was a CD of Yao's or if it was the radio, but he rather liked the song, which was turned up loud so it could be heard over the torrential rain that had started mere minutes ago.

"You know, Yao, I've been thinking…" said Ivan.

"What have you been thinking about, Ivan?" asked Yao.

"You know how you said you wanted to open a restaurant, da? If you do, you should name it Wang's Noodles. I think that would be a good name," said Ivan.

Yao laughed. "Somehow I don't think anyone would eat at a place with a name like that."

"I would," said Ivan.

"A successful restaurant needs more than one customer," said Yao.

Ivan toyed with the idea of inviting Yao into his apartment when they arrived and trying to get him into his bed. Even if they were never that intimate again, he would love to have Yao's scent on his pillow for a little while. He was so busy imagining the different ways he could seduce Yao again that he lost track of where they were, and before Ivan knew it, they were in the city centre, not far from where he lived.

"Pierce Street intersects Lincoln Avenue, right?" asked Yao.

"It does, but I think all of the streets running that way intersect Lincoln Avenue," said Ivan.

"I think you're right, actually. Which street—"

Before Yao could finish his sentence, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and a fraction of a second later, a grey truck smashed into the side of the car, sending both vehicles crashing into a lamp post.

After an instant of noise, motion and impact, it was all over. The rain continued to fall upon the crumpled roof of the tiny red car on the now silent street.

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><p><strong>Author's note: shocking cliffhanger. Who would have expected that? (Everyone, because I mentioned that particular plot point in the summary.)<strong>

**This is just the beginning. I don't know how long this story is going to be, but it's going to be pretty long, so if you're interested in seeing more, then you can either put this on story alert or just keep checking back here.**

**Just for anyone who is confused as to who 'Anastasiya' is, she's meant to be Ukraine, but she doesn't actually have an official human name. I've seen her being referred to as Sofia, Katyusha and Yekaterina in other fanworks, but I chose Anastasiya because Wikipedia tells me that it's the most common female name in Ukraine. Also, I think it's a rather nice name.**

**Anyway, now you know that, and you also understand why I had to put the rated-M-for-sexy-sex disclaimer at the top of this (or perhaps this is just rated M because of Ivan's sim-killing escapades. But really, killing sims is ****_fun_****, and he strikes me as someone who would enjoy it as much as I do)**

**And I think that's really all I have to say about this chapter.**


	2. Forget Myself

**Author's note: This chapter was actually finished a couple of days ago, but unfortunately I was out of town and didn't have computer access so I was unable to upload it. Sorry for making you wait.**

**Anyway, I want to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited, alerted or even just read the first chapter of ****_One Little Lie_****. It meant a lot to me, and I hope that you continue to enjoy the story.**

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><p>Ivan opened his eyes and found himself in a room he had never seen before. There were people everywhere — some lying on beds like the one he was one, others wearing scrubs and tending to the injured. This was a hospital, there was no other explanation. But why was he here?<p>

"Where am I?" he asked nobody in particular.

A young nurse rushed over to where he was.

"Good, you're conscious," she commented.

"Where am I?" he asked again. "What's going on?"

"This is the St Damian's Hospital emergency department. You were in a car crash but sustained no serious injuries. You do have a few cuts and bruises though, but nothing too bad," said the nurse.

"My head," Ivan groaned, reaching for it and finding that his hair was plastered to his forehead. His hand felt kind of sticky, and when he looked it he found that there was blood on his fingers from where he had touched his head.

"I'm bleeding," he said.

"It's just a cut. Dr Watts already looked at it and decided that it didn't need stitches, but I'll clean it up for you anyway," said the nurse.

"YAO!" Ivan cried, suddenly remembering that he hadn't been the only person in the car when the accident happened.

"What?" asked the nurse.

"Yao! He's my… he was in the car with me. Is he okay? Is he here?" Ivan asked frantically, looking around the room and finding that Yao wasn't in any of the other beds.

"Is he by any chance a small-ish man with long dark—"

"That's him, that's him! What happened to him? Is he alright? Where is he?" asked Ivan.

"He's alive. His head injury was deemed serious enough that he would need to be given a room of his own for recovery, though. As far as I know he isn't conscious, but I'll have someone check, and if he is you might be able to visit him, depending on…" the nurse trailed off.

"Depending on what?" asked Ivan.

"Well, he did receive a pretty serious head injury, and there's no way of knowing for sure until he's awake, but that sort of thing can cause brain damage in some cases," said the nurse.

Ivan felt the blood drain from his face. Brain damage? Surely that wouldn't happen to Yao. The nurse had only mentioned it because medical professionals always had to prepare you for the worst possible outcome, no matter how unlikely that outcome was. Yao would be fine.

Wouldn't he?

Despite reassuring himself that Yao would be okay, Ivan couldn't help but worry. He barely even registered that the nurse — who was called Bethany according to her name tag, not that Ivan noticed that — was tending to the cut on his forehead. He simply stared straight ahead, looking but not seeing, with only one thing on his mind: _Yao._

He didn't notice Bethany leaving after she had finished disinfecting his cut, and he didn't know how long it was before she came back — it seemed like hours had passed, but it couldn't have been that long.

"I have some news about your… um…"

"Boyfriend," Ivan said.

It was a lie, but a necessary one — often hospitals had rules about who was allowed to visit patients, and sometimes _acquaintance_ or even _friend_ didn't cut it.

"Your boyfriend, yes. He's awake, but…"

"But what?" Ivan asked. He could feel his heart sinking — he didn't know what had happened to Yao, but it couldn't have been good, not if the nurse was so apprehensive about telling him.

"He seems to be suffering from retrograde amnesia," said Bethany.

"Amnesia? As in memory loss?" asked Ivan.

"Yes. It's rather… severe, in this case," said Bethany.

"How severe?" asked Ivan.

"When he came to, he had no idea who he was. He has no memory of any past experiences," explained Bethany.

Ivan was speechless. Yao had lost _all_ of his memories — his entire life, twenty-something years of memories, gone. Ivan had been prepared to deal with Yao forgetting him and the night they had spent together, but not every single thing that he had ever done. He suddenly wondered how Yao was feeling — confused, scared, bewildered? He wouldn't even know his own name.

"Can I see him?" Ivan asked.

"Not yet, but you should be able to soon, if Dr Wigmore thinks it's appropriate," said Bethany, leaving Ivan's bedside to ten to another patient.

Ivan's minded flooded with questions. Would Yao ever regain his memories? If he did, how long would it take? Would he even be the same Yao that Ivan had known now that the experiences that had shaped and influenced him were gone?

Ivan wished that he could be of more help. He was going to be the first person that Yao saw, and he barely knew anything about him either — just his name, where he lived, where he worked and that his dream was to own a restaurant. Oh, he knew other things too — what his body looked like under his clothes, how loud he moaned during sex and how soft his hair, his skin, his lips, everything was to touch — but those weren't really the sorts of things that someone who had lost their memory urgently needed to know.

Ivan felt around inside his coat pocket for his phone. His sister had bought it for him so that they could keep in touch when he left Russia, and it had been the newest, most expensive model at the time. Even after two years, it was still impressive — it had a screen that responded when you touched it, the ability to connect to the internet anywhere in the world and all sorts of extra features that a phone didn't really need. However, Ivan found the touchscreen difficult to use, especially considering that he almost always wore gloves, and so mainly used it as a light for finding his way around at night — to him, it was merely an eight hundred dollar flashlight. But just this once, it was going to prove itself to be very useful. If he was going to be of any use to Yao, he would have to find out more about him, and this being the 21st century, the easiest way to learn personal details about a person was via the internet.

He fumbled around in his pocket for his phone, went onto the internet and typed _Yao Wang _into the search engine. The first result that came up was the Facebook page of somebody named Yao Wang, and Ivan clicked the link, hoping that it would be his Yao. Unfortunately, it was actually an elderly man from Harbin. Not to be deterred, Ivan typed Yao's name into the search box at the top of the page, and then scrolled down through the results until he found a user whose profile picture was unmistakably Yao. He went onto Yao's profile and began learning as much as he could about him.

Yao was twenty-six, Ivan discovered, his birthday was in October and his hometown was listed as Beijing. Ivan decided to look through Yao's photos, partially because he figured they'd be more useful than the lists of bands, books and movies Yao had liked and partially because he just wanted to look at Yao. The first photo in Yao's album was of him and a dark haired young man who was tagged as _Kiku Honda_. Ivan recognised the name from Yao's sibling list — he was supposedly his brother, but due to the different surnames, Ivan didn't know if they were actually related. There were also a couple of photos of Yao alone, and Ivan couldn't help noticing that he looked completely irresistible in all of them, especially the one where he was gleefully holding a panda plushie up to the camera. He looked so happy, but whatever had made him happy — the panda, the person taking the photo, something else that had happened on the day it was taken — was now forgotten.

"Ivan," came a voice from next to the bed, and Ivan looked up to see that Bethany was back again. He briefly wondered how she knew his name — he hadn't told her, but perhaps she had checked his pockets and found a driver's license or something else with his name on it.

"What is it? Has something happened to Yao?" he asked.

"The doctor says you can visit him now," said Bethany.

Ivan hurriedly pocketed his phone, got up off the bed and followed her out of the emergency department. She took him up the stairs to the second floor, which housed a ward of some sort, and led him to room 19.

"He's in there, but just so you're prepared, he doesn't remember _anything_, so he probably won't know who you are," explained Bethany.

"I understand," said Ivan.

Bethany opened the door and ushered Ivan inside. On a bed in the centre of the room lay Yao, looking a little confused and more than a little gorgeous.

"Yao…" Ivan breathed.

"Ah, yes. Your boyfriend has come to visit you," said the blonde woman — presumably a doctor — by Yao's bedside.

"Boyfriend?" Yao asked.

"Yes," said Bethany, before Ivan could deny it, "he's been very concerned about you."

"I'll leave the two of you alone," said the blonde doctor, "Bethany, Scott needs you."

The two women left the room, leaving Ivan alone with Yao.

"So you're my boyfriend," said Yao.

_No._ This was Ivan's chance to come clean, to tell Yao that he was actually just somebody that he had slept with once and that he had told the nurse that he was his boyfriend so that she wouldn't stop him from visiting.

"I am," was what he said instead.

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember you," said Yao.

"It's okay, it's not your fault," said Ivan.

"Can you tell me about… about us?" asked Yao.

Another chance to tell him the truth. _We had sex last night, and it was amazing, but it was our entire relationship._

Another chance to lie.

"We've been together for a year. Well… a year and three weeks," said Ivan.

_We can't have been, none of his friends would know me._

"We never told anyone about our relationship, though, since we're both men and a lot of people find that to be… controversial," said Ivan.

_And why did I tell the nurse that I was his boyfriend if it's a secret?_

"Last night we decided that we weren't going to pretend any more because we're—"

_In love?_

"—both adults and shouldn't have to hide our relationship from everybody. You asked me to move in with you, and we were going to my place to pick up some of my stuff."

Ivan could feel his heart racing. He didn't know whether it was from the adrenaline rush of lying or fear that Yao would somehow know it wasn't true.

Yao was quiet for a moment.

"Did I love you?" he finally asked.

"I think you did," said Ivan.

_A year is a long time to go without saying 'I love you.'_

"You said you did, so it must be true."

_Because saying something makes it real._

"And you loved me?" asked Yao.

"So much. I still do," said Ivan.

Somehow that didn't feel like a lie.

"I don't know your name," said Yao.

"Ivan Braginsky. And you're Yao Wang. You're twenty-six, you were born in Beijing and you're the best and most important thing in my life right now," said Ivan.

"Ivan. Ivan and Yao. Yao and Ivan. I'm so sorry, I still don't remember anything," said Yao.

"It's okay. Your memories might not come back right away. They will eventually," said Ivan.

"Doctor Wigmore told me that although it's rare, in some cases patients with retrograde amnesia never recover any memories," said Yao.

"Doctors have to prepare you for the worst, no matter how unlikely it is," said Ivan.

"Ivan, are you still—do we—is it—I asked you to move in with me, so I can't very well rescind the invitation just because I don't remember. Will you… if I were to go home, would you come with me?" asked Yao.

"Of course," said Ivan.

Yao smiled.

"Thank you. You know, at first not knowing who I was or anything about my past scared me, but now that I've got you, I think I'm going to be alright," he said.

That settled it. Yao needed someone to help him cope with his memory loss, and if Ivan had to lie to him to make sure that Yao got what he needed, then so be it.

A loud vibration sounded within Yao's pocket, and it took him a moment to realise that it was a phone — his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen for a moment.

"Who's Kiku?" he asked.

"He's your brother," Ivan said.

"Should I tell him that I'm in the hospital?" asked Yao.

"Probably. I'll call him if you want," said Ivan.

Yao chucked Ivan the phone.

"I don't remember him either," he said.

"Maybe if he comes to visit it'll trigger your memory," said Ivan, calling the number.

"Maybe," Yao murmured.

Ivan brought the phone up to his ear just as it was answered.

"Yao, about the—"

"Privet!" said Ivan.

The voice on the other end fell silent for a moment.

"Who are you and why are you calling me from Yao's phone?"

"You're Yao's brother Kiku, right?" asked Ivan.

"Yes. Well, stepbrother, but still. Who are you?" asked Kiku.

"My name is Ivan, and I'm your brother's boyfriend. Yao has been in a car accident and is in the hospital with a head injury — one that caused him to forget everything about his life. Perhaps seeing you will help him remember," said Ivan.

Kiku was quiet again for a moment. Ivan got the feeling that he was very careful with his words.

"He is at the Cleveland Street Hospital, yes?" Kiku asked.

"No, St Damian's," said Ivan.

"Right, I'll be there as soon as possible," said Kiku, hanging up.

Ivan turned to Yao.

"He's coming," said Ivan, sitting down in a chair beside Yao's bed.

"Where are you from, Ivan? Your accent sounds European but I can't quite place it," said Yao.

"I'm from Russia," said Ivan.

"Tell me about your life in Russia. I want to know more about you," said Yao.

"Well, I was born in a very small town. My parents owned a farm and although we weren't wealthy, we got by. I have two sisters, Anastasiya and Natalia. Anastasiya is a couple of years older than me and Natalia is a couple of years younger. When I was thirteen, my mother got sick and died, and my father sank into a deep depression and ended up drinking himself to death. Anastasiya dropped out of school to work on the farm so we would still have food to eat and a way to make money, but she wouldn't let me do the same. She wanted me and Natalia to get a good education — Anastasiya was always such a good sister. Even so, I was never very happy there, so I decided to move away. At first I was thinking of going to a Russian city, perhaps St Petersburg, but instead I decided to move to a completely different country — and it turned out to be a very good decision, because I met you!" said Ivan.

Yao smiled. "You seem to think very highly of me."

"Only because you're so wonderful, Yao!" said Ivan.

It was true. Even though he barely knew him, Ivan was already very fond of Yao. Not just because of the sex, not just because Yao was very beautiful, but because he was nice. Not only that, but he was nice _to Ivan._ People tended to find him intimidating — he couldn't think why — and it was very unusual for someone to approach him just to chat like Yao had done in the bar. Ivan knew from the way that Yao had been so surprised when he kissed him that he hadn't been intending to seduce him, he'd just felt like talking.

Ivan had questioned the feeling earlier, but now he was sure of it.

He was falling in love with Yao.

After about five minutes, Kiku arrived, apologizing for being late and explaining that he'd had a hard time finding Yao's room. Ivan decided to give them a chance to talk by themselves and offered to get Yao something to eat from the hospital cafeteria, which was located on the fourth floor according to the map next to the elevator.

The cafeteria unfortunately only served health food, which was understandable considering it was in a hospital, but didn't give him anything nice to bring back for Yao. He eventually settled on a lettuce and tomato sandwich and bottled water, hoping that Yao liked that sort of thing. Ivan didn't think to get something for himself or Kiku before making his way down to the second floor.

Ivan slowly opened the door to room 19, taking care not to drop the sandwich or the water bottle. Before he had opened it more than a crack, stopped to listen to the conversation that was going on inside.

"—about Ivan. You could have told me about him. You could have told all of us. We're your family, Yao, and we wouldn't have judged you for it. I suppose you don't recall why you felt you couldn't say anything, though," said Kiku.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why either. Maybe Ivan was the one who didn't want to tell anyone. You know, it's strange, but even though I don't remember him, I feel that I can trust him," said Yao.

At this point, Ivan opened the door fully and walked into the room.

"Privet, Yao. I got you a sandwich and some water," he said.

"Thank you," said Yao as Ivan handed him the food.

"I would assume that your car isn't in any condition to be driven, so if you need to be taken home I could drive you there. That is if the doctors say you can leave," offered Kiku.

"I can go find a doctor and ask them when you'll be allowed to leave," said Ivan, getting up and leaving the room again.

As he wandered through the hospital, he realised that he knew nothing about the driver of the other car in the crash. He had the urge to find out who they were, go find them and fuck them up — whoever they were, they could have killed him, they could have killed _Yao_, and it was their fault that Yao had lost his memories. He hadn't felt this way since before he had left Russia. Back then, he often exacted revenge on those who crossed him, and it was no big deal. In the beginning Anastasiya would tell him that he should stop, that he was overreacting, dealing with his problems the wrong way and he would get himself into a lot of trouble, but instead he just tried his hardest to make sure that she didn't find out any more. He never got into the trouble that his sister had warned him about, so what was the problem? If people hurt him or his family, he would hurt them. If someone hurt Yao, then he would hurt them. That was fair, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

For some reason, Ivan felt as if it might not be a good idea this time. Something was stopping him. Yao was stopping him.

Ivan was worried about what Yao would think of him. Would he feel safe and secure with someone who tried to protect him by punishing those who had hurt him, or would he react the same way everyone else had — calling him a freak, a psycho, a monster? Ivan didn't want Yao to think badly of him.

If he had to be good so that Yao would continue to trust him, then he would be. Ivan pushed all thoughts of the other driver out of his head and continued looking for a doctor.


	3. Silver Screen Romance

Yao sat down on what was apparently his bed. This was apparently his house, and this being the only bedroom, it had to be his. Well, his and Ivan's, but the Russian had said that he would sleep on the sofa until Yao felt comfortable about sharing a bed. He'd said it like it was the only possible eventuality — that he _would_ share a bed with Ivan, sleep with him, love him, as he presumably had done before the crash. It seemed that Ivan was sure that Yao's memories would return, but Yao wasn't so sure. Kiku's visit hadn't triggered any memories, and neither had returning to his house. The hospital had agreed to discharge him, telling him that a doctor would call him to schedule some appointments to try and treat his memory loss, or at least help him deal with it. His memories would most likely return eventually, they had told him, but what they hadn't told him was whether 'eventually' meant next week or twenty years from now.

Yao lay down on the bed. It was comfortable, more so than the hospital bed. He didn't remember having fallen asleep ever before, but knew that if he lay there for long enough, he eventually would.

Not remembering didn't feel strange to Yao, as he didn't remember remembering.

Kiku had told Yao about himself. He had been born in China, but when he was eight his mother had fallen pregnant, and due to the one-child-per-family law that was in place to combat overpopulation, she decided to leave the country to give her son and her yet-to-be-born twins a better life. Yao's father had not been very supportive of her decision, and had stayed in Beijing. In the United States, Yao's mother met Kiku's father, and they bonded over their similar circumstances. Both had moved to the USA from Asia, leaving behind their spouse and bringing with them a young son — Kiku was younger than Yao by four months. Despite the very small age difference, Yao was always the devoted and at times fussy older brother, not just to Kiku and the twins, Xiang and Mei, but also to the many foster children that their family looked after. Yao also worked very hard at school, winning a prestigious scholarship for the local college where he earned a degree in political science.

It seemed almost unreal to Yao — that he had experienced twenty-six years of life and memories.

His hand, which was hanging over the side of the bed, touched something soft and furry underneath it. Curious, he looked under the bed and found some stuffed animals down there — two pandas and a Hello Kitty toy. Yao smiled, picking them up. They were so cute! He supposed that he had liked cute things like this before, considering the fact that he had them. He wasn't entirely sure why they were under the bed, though.

Leaving the plushies on the bed, Yao got up and walked out into the living room where Ivan was watching TV — they'd set up a bed for him on the sofa earlier. Ivan looked up from the music video when Yao entered the room.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Of course, I'm fine. I was thinking about having a shower though — unless I've already had one today," said Yao.

He had no idea why this statement made Ivan grin.

"You had a shower this morning," he said, "but you can have another. It's your house, so you can do what you like."

"Oh. I guess I'll have another then. What about you? Do you want a shower after me?" asked Yao.

"After? Sure," said Ivan.

Yao could hear a hint of longing in Ivan's voice. It was a given that their relationship had been a sexual one, so perhaps they had showered together too. Although Ivan was clearly in love with him, Yao hardly knew his so-called boyfriend, and he wasn't prepared to be that intimate with him just yet.

Yao sat down on beside Ivan and shyly placed a chaste kiss on the Russian's cheek. Ivan gently pushed Yao down onto the sofa and pressed his lips against the smaller man's. He slipped his tongue inside Yao's mouth, and Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan.

It was Ivan who eventually broke the kiss to catch his breath. Yao laid his head down on the sofa and looked up at Ivan. He had to admit, his boyfriend was quite attractive. Yao liked his silver-blonde hair, how tall he was and that nose of his, but Ivan's most striking feature, Yao thought, was his eyes — they were purple, the colour of amethysts, the most beautiful shade imaginable.

Ivan kissed Yao again, his hand slowly trailing down the smaller man's body, beginning to unbuckle Yao's belt when he reached it.

Yao didn't mind — hell, he wanted his pants to come off, and then perhaps Ivan's, and then—

"Ivan, stop!"

It was a half-hearted plea but a plea nonetheless. Yao may have been small, especially compared to Ivan, but he was strong, and easily pushed the unsuspecting Russian off of him.

"Ivan, from my perspective, we've only just met," said Yao.

"Of course… but that didn't stop you last time," said Ivan.

"What?" Yao asked, confused.

"The very first time we met, we slept together. Our relationship started off as a one night stand that grew into something more," Ivan explained.

"Oh. I don't know if I want to do it that way again," said Yao.

"I understand. It's okay, I won't rush you," said Ivan.

"Thank you. I might go and have that shower now," said Yao.

* * *

><p>In the bathroom, Yao tugged off his shirt and pants and looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror. His long hair — almost black but actually a very dark hade of brown — was pulled back in a ponytail, save for the shorter strands that framed his rather feminine face. Even in only his undies — a pair of light cotton boxers with panda faces all over them — he looked like he could pass for a girl, albeit a very flat-chested one.<p>

He turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm up. As he did, he thought about Ivan and what the two of them had just done — what they had almost done, what they would have surely gone through with if it weren't for Yao's memory loss and his inhibitions. Although Yao's body certainly wasn't virginal, his mind was, and he rather wanted to keep it that way — at least for the time being.

Yao checked the water again and found that it was to his liking. He took off his boxers, took one last look in the mirror and got in the shower.

* * *

><p>The movie on the TV helped Ivan keep his mind off Yao. It was a horror movie, about a bunch of teenagers getting murdered by a serial killer — perhaps one of the supernatural variety, but since Ivan had started watching partway through he wasn't entirely sure. It was a familiar plot, but Ivan still found himself entertained by it. The protagonists were pretty dumb, but the gratuitous blood and gore made up for it. Ivan found himself cheering for the killer, as he often did when none of the good guys were deserving of his support. He'd always liked horror movies — Natalia had too, but Anastasiya had found them unsettling.<p>

He wondered what Yao thought of such things.

He wondered what Yao was doing right now.

He was in the shower — Ivan could hear the water running — so he was probably hot, wet and naked. Perhaps he was reacquainting himself with his body, although considering that Yao was pretty loud, Ivan would probably be able to hear him if he was. Still, the thought of Yao discovering how he moaned at his own touch, what got him hard and how sensitive his nipples were excited Ivan. He could picture Yao touching his own body, glistening with moisture, as water cascaded down his slim figure. The mental image was so arousing.

These thoughts of Yao, Yao's body and the things that Yao could do with his body didn't take long to get Ivan hard. He wondered if he had time to take care of it before Yao got out of the shower — it wasn't very late, so Yao might want to watch TV with him instead of going back to bed. Ivan unbuttoned his long coat, and just as he was about to slip his hand into his pants, he heard the shower being turned off. After a moment, he heard the bathroom door being opened, light footsteps going across the hall and then the door to the bedroom being opened and then closed. After that, all Ivan could hear was the scream of the girl on the television as she was stabbed repeatedly in the chest — it was not a sound that Ivan wanted to pleasure himself to.

He sighed and reluctantly resigned himself to having a cold shower instead.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Yao was getting dressed after his own shower, which hadn't been anywhere near as erotic as Ivan had imagined it to be. It had taken him a little while to figure out where his pyjamas were kept, but he had eventually found a yellow flannel pair that was deliciously soft and warm. They were a little baggy — the sleeves in particular were too long for Yao's arms — but they were comfortable, so he didn't mind.<p>

Yao turned off the bedside lamp and pulled the blankets up over his body. One arm rested beneath the pillow and the other held the plushies that he had found earlier. He shut his eyes and listened to the sound of the shower across the hall. It was a good sound to fall asleep to, like rain on a rooftop — not that Yao remembered ever falling asleep to the sound of rain on a rooftop. There were a lot of things like that, things that he had no memory of but still knew about. At the hospital he had been told that this sort of amnesia affected autobiographical memory more severely than it affected factual memory, thus he would, for example, remember things that he had learnt in school despite having no memory of ever going to school.

Yao's contemplation was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, got up and went into the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Yao, hi. I'm so glad that you're alive! Kiku told me about the accident," said an unfamiliar voice.

"Um… who is this?" Yao asked.

"This is your mother, Yao," said the voice.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I don't remember you," said Yao.

"That's fine, it's not your fault," said his mother.

People had been telling Yao the same thing all day. But whose fault was it? The driver of the car that had crashed into his, of course, but was there a reason why out of all of the cars in the city, it was his that got hit? Was there a reason why this had happened to Yao instead of anyone else?

"Yao, are you still there?" asked his mother.

"Yeah, I'm here," said Yao.

"I just want you to know that even if you don't remember me, you're still my son and I'll always love you," said his mother.

"Thanks," said Yao.

Yao felt terrible for not being able to say _I love you too_, but from he didn't even know her — he hadn't even seen her, only heard her voice over the telephone. This was his mother, the woman who had left her country and probably everything she knew so that she could give him and his younger siblings (who he didn't know _at all_) a better life — a better life that he couldn't even remember. He was sure that it must break her heart to have her oldest son not remember a thing about her, but what could he do?

Yao also felt terrible about Ivan. Just the way that the other man looked at him gave away the fact that he loved him, was _in love_ with him, and yet Yao couldn't feel the same way about him. Yes, Ivan was nice to him, but he had no memories of him from before today, and how could you love someone that quickly.

"Did Kiku tell you about Ivan?" Yao asked.

"Your boyfriend? Yes, he mentioned him," said Yao's mother.

"And you're alright with me being… you know…"

"Gay? Yao, that's fine. I don't care if you choose to date a man or a woman as long as they treat you right. Is this Ivan good to you?" asked Yao's mother.

"He is. He's been very supportive of the whole memory loss thing, and I'm very lucky to have him," said Yao.

"Awww, I'm lucky to have you too," said a Russian-accented voice from behind him.

"Aiyaa!" Yao cried, dropping the phone, "Ivan, don't creep up on me like that!"

"I was trying to be quiet because you were on the phone," said Ivan.

"Okay," said Yao, picking up the phone and holding it up to his ear.

"—there? Is everything alright? I thought I heard—"

"I'm fine, Ivan just startled me and I dropped the phone," said Yao.

"Is he there? Can I talk to him? You've been hiding him from me for a year, so you should really let me speak to him now," said Yao's mother.

"Um… I don't know if he can talk right now," said Yao.

"I can talk to her if that's what she wants," said Ivan.

"Fine," sighed Yao, handing the phone to Ivan.

Yao was a little bit worried about letting his mother and Ivan talk, considering that he didn't know the sort of things that they could blurt out to each other about him — his mother had raised him and would know all of the embarrassing things that he had done as a child, and Ivan would know all sorts of intimate details. Having your mother meet your boyfriend was awkward enough even when you didn't have amnesia and couldn't remember either of them.

"Ah, privet Mrs Yao's mother," Ivan said into the phone.

Yao could faintly hear his mother's voice, but he couldn't make out what she was saying.

"Russian," Ivan said, and Yao assumed that his mother had enquired about his accent.

"Heh, you're right. To think that our countries are right next to each other and yet we met on the other side of the world," said Ivan.

Yao moved his head closer to the phone to try and hear the other side of the conversation, but to no avail.

"Of course I am. Yao's lovely, so why wouldn't I?" asked Ivan.

Yao had given up on trying to hear his mother by now.

"I love him a lot, but I understand that he couldn't love me because he can't remember me," said Ivan.

That just made Yao feel guilty.

"Da, no fault of his own. Hmmm? Oh, that means yes in Russian," said Ivan.

Another pause.

"I suppose I'll have to try and win his heart again! Huh? Oh, of course. Do svidaniya!"

There was a final pause, and then Ivan hung up the phone.

"You don't have to try and win my heart, Ivan," said Yao.

"But of course I do! You can't just love me from being told that you once loved me. I have to prove that I'm worthy of your love," said Ivan.

"You don't have to do that, Ivan. My memories will come back and I'll remember being in love with you," said Yao.

"I'm going to do it anyway. So, Yao, for our first date would you like to watch a movie with me? There's a good one in the TV right now," said Ivan.

"I… okay," said Yao, flicking the light switch on and noticing for the first time that Ivan, wearing only a bathrobe, had managed to drip water all over the kitchen floor. "Go dry yourself first. You're getting water all over the floor, Ivan!"

"Oh, Yao, you haven't changed at all," said Ivan

* * *

><p>Although curling up on the sofa with a bag of Doritos and watching a slasher movie was probably not the most romantic first date, that didn't stop Ivan from enjoying it immensely. The fact that he and Yao held hands for most of the movie helped.<p>

"Are you scared?" Ivan had asked when the smaller man first grabbed his hand during a particularly gory murder scene.

"No, I just don't really like gore," Yao had said defensively.

"Why not? I think it's fun to watch," said Ivan.

"I just don't get the point. Really, if you're going to kill someone then it would make sense to do it quickly and leave straight away so you don't leave too much evidence. Putting so much effort into inflicting pain on somebody who's probably already dead seems pointless to me," said Yao.

"We don't have to watch this movie if you don't like it," said Ivan.

"I like it, and I want to know what happens, I just don't like this sort of scene," Yao had said, giving Ivan's hand a gentle squeeze.

Usually Ivan found people talking during movies to be annoying — not that he often watched movies with others — but he found that he rather liked it when Yao made observations about the film. He pointed out things that didn't make sense (since neither of them had seen the entire film there were quite a few of those) and shared his theories about what he thought was going to happen. Ivan listened intently to every word. He wasn't just fascinated by what Yao was saying, he also loved Yao's voice. His Chinese accent wasn't particularly prominent — considering he'd left China when he was a child, it made sense his it would have faded a bit — but there were a few words and syllables on which it was quite obvious.

Ivan liked how warm Yao was. He had noticed it when they had spent the night in each other's arms, but he was still surprised that Yao warmed him up just by sitting next to him.

When the movie finally finished, Yao let out a sleepy yawn while Ivan fumbled around for the light switch.

"I enjoyed this date, Ivan," said Yao.

"It wasn't really a proper date. I'll take you on a proper date tomorrow," said Ivan.

"Tomorrow?" asked Yao.

"Tomorrow," Ivan confirmed, "I'll take you out somewhere special."

"Ivan, you don't have to do this — you're probably having a hard enough time dealing with the fact that I can't even remember you without having to go out of your way to do nice things for me," said Yao.

"But I want to do nice things for you, because you're a nice person and I want you to like me," said Ivan.

"I already like you," said Yao.

"Well I want you to like me even more, and I know exactly what we're going to do tomorrow!" said Ivan.

"What are we doing tomorrow?" asked Yao.

"It's a surprise, but I think you'll like it a lot," said Ivan.

"You're so good to me," Yao murmured as he softly kissed Ivan on the lips, "I'm actually pretty tired now, so goodnight, Ivan."

"Goodnight, Yao," Ivan said as Yao got up from the couch and left the room, turning the light off as he went and leaving Ivan in the darkness.

He was good to Yao.

Yao liked him.

Yao was happy.

They were both happy.

He had been right to lie. If one tiny little lie, one accidental lie that he hadn't even intended to tell had done so much good in so short a time, then there was no way it was wrong. There was no way that what he was doing was wrong, he told himself.

Wasn't there?

* * *

><p><strong>Author note:<strong>

**So there you have it, the third chapter of _One Little Lie_.**

**It can be difficult figuring out how to explain the characters families in AU fics, considering that everybody tends to have siblings who are of completely different nationalities. Xiang and Mei are Hong Kong and Taiwan, by the way. They don't have human names either, but those are quite common fanon names for them, so I decided to go with that.**

**Anyway, thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited, alerted or even just read the story so far! I know I said this in the author's note last chapter too, but it's because I'm so grateful for your kind words and I'm also really proud that I wrote something that people like!**


	4. One of My Lies

There should be a law banning Yao from wearing short shorts. When he'd walked out of the bedroom in the morning dressed in a t-shirt, jacket and a pair of tiny figure-hugging shorts, Ivan had found it hard to stop staring at him. There was so much to look at — as well as drawing attention to Yao's butt, which was a very nice butt indeed, the shorts also showed off his smooth, shapely legs, which were devoid of any unsightly blemishes or tan lines, and Ivan could only imagine how obvious a bulge at the front of those shorts would be if Yao got excited. Although he figured that Yao was dressed like that because it was a rather warm day, Ivan briefly entertained the thought that Yao had worn them just to turn him on. The idea that Yao wanted to look sexy for him made Ivan very happy.

"Yao, come and give me a kiss," Ivan said, beckoning Yao over to the sofa.

Yao happily obliged, leaning over to kiss Ivan on the lips.

Even though they made him long for more, Ivan loved the soft, sweet, innocent kisses that Yao gave him. He hoped that one day, when he was ready, Yao would kiss him like that as they made love. Ivan's fixation with Yao — his obsession, some might call it — went beyond a simple lust for his body. He wanted all of Yao — the horny, wanton Yao that slept with him the night they met, the cute and innocent Yao who kissed him so sweetly, the funny, insightful Yao who had talked to him during the movie last night.

Ivan wanted to take his boyfriend on a dream date, but he had a feeling that Yao would enjoy it more if he could restrain himself from staring at his ass.

"So, where are we going today?" Yao asked, sitting down on the arm of the sofa.

Ivan pulled Yao down onto his lap, managing to discretely place his hand on the smaller man's backside as he did.

"It's a surprise. I need to go back to my place to change into some clean clothes, and while I'm in town I'll get some breakfast for us. Are you alright staying here by yourself?" asked Ivan.

"Of course," said Yao, kissing Ivan again, "and thank you, Ivan. You're so good to me."

"I only give people what they deserve, Yao. You deserve all of the love and kindness I can give you," said Ivan.

Yao blushed. "If I was that amazing then I have some very high expectations to live up to."

"You're amazing right now," said Ivan.

"You're so sweet, Ivan," said Yao.

He kissed Ivan again, this time more passionately. Ivan wrapped his arms around Yao and breathed in his scent — he smelled so clean and nice.

Yao broke the kiss and rested his head on Ivan's shoulder.

"Hey Ivan, I noticed that I've got this scar on my back. Do you have any idea how I got it?" asked Yao.

Ivan had noticed the scar too.

"You never told me. I never asked," said Ivan.

If Yao had gotten the scar in the past year, during the time that he and Ivan had supposedly been together, then everything would fall apart. The idea that Ivan hadn't asked about the scar in all of the time they had been together seemed strange enough, but if one day a new scar had appeared on Yao's back and neither of them had mentioned it, it would seem very suspicious. Ivan tried to think of another lie he could tell if that one ever fell through. Perhaps Yao never showed Ivan his back until after he got the scar? That didn't really make sense either.

Ivan knew that eventually, Yao would realise that he had lied. Even if his memories never came back, there would be something about their relationship that wasn't quite right, that didn't quite make sense, and Yao would know that there was something that Ivan wasn't telling him. Ivan would have to choose between telling him the truth or trying to think of a better excuse. How many times would he have to make that choice?

Another question plagued Ivan's mind — how would Yao react if he found out about his lies? At first he would probably be shocked and upset, maybe even a little angry, but if Ivan had a chance to explain that he had only done it because he loved Yao and didn't want him to be alone and scared without his memories, would Yao forgive him? Or would he think that what Ivan was doing was unforgivable?

Ivan gently kissed Yao on the forehead and held the smaller man close.

"Ivan, are you okay?" Yao asked, sensing that something was wrong.

"I'm fine, I'm just thinking about how lucky I am to have you — how lucky it is that you weren't killed in that car crash," said Ivan.

It wasn't really a lie — Ivan hadn't been thinking about it just then, but he was so grateful that Yao was alive. Ivan's anger at the other driver resurfaced, and he wished that he had gone and found whoever it was when he still had the chance. But then where would he be? In jail for assault? Certainly not sitting on a comfortable sofa with Yao on his lap.

"It's lucky that you're okay too — if you had died, I wouldn't have any memories of you at all," said Yao.

"I hope that the person who was driving the other car suffers miserably in prison for what he or she could have done to you," Ivan said coldly.

"Ivan, he's dead," said Yao.

"What?" asked Ivan.

"The man who was driving the other car. When I was in the hospital, before you came to see me, I asked the doctor who the other driver was and she told me that he died before he even got to the hospital," said Yao.

"Good," said Ivan.

"Ivan! That's not very nice, I'm sure he didn't mean to—"

"Yao, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's when people hurt the ones I love. If the man who almost killed you is dead, then I say he got what he deserved," said Ivan.

Yao was quiet for a moment, and Ivan was worried that he had said the wrong thing, that Yao found him disturbing.

"Ivan, you said that as if people hurting the ones you love is a regular occurrence," Yao finally said.

That was something that Ivan didn't like to talk about, but he felt like he could tell Yao anything.

"When I was little, the other kids at school used to bully me. I didn't have any friends or anyone to stand up for me, so I just put up with it. What really hurt me, though, was when they picked on my sisters, but back then I was too little and weak to do anything but cry about it, and that just made then hate me more. But then I grew big and tall and the other kids left me alone — but they didn't leave Anastasiya and Natalia alone. Natalia is and always has been a strong girl and she could stand up for herself, but Anastasiya couldn't — she was so kind and gentle and she hated conflict. The other kids wouldn't stop making fun of her, but since I was big and strong, I could hurt them — I just wanted them to leave my sisters alone! And they learned their lessons like good little children and they never messed with my family again. So yes, I have had a lot of experience with people hurting those who I care about, and that's why I can't stand the thought of anyone hurting you," said Ivan.

"Oh Ivan, you poor thing," said Yao, "you don't have to worry about me like that."

Ivan gently kissed Yao's soft lips, running his hand through the smaller man's hair.

"I hope there won't be any reason for me to worry about you," he said, giving Yao's backside a gentle squeeze.

"Ivan!" Yao exclaimed, blushing at Ivan's intimate touch.

"You're so cute when you blush like that, Yao," said Ivan, squeezing Yao's behind again in the hopes of eliciting a similar reaction.

"Ivan! Stop touching my butt!" said Yao, standing up.

"Sorry," said Ivan, "next time I'll ask for permission first."

"Yeah, well… as you should," said Yao, "aren't you supposed to be going to your place to change your clothes?"

"Ah, right, I was also going to get breakfast for us. I won't take too long," said Ivan, standing up and kissing Yao on the cheek, enjoying how warm the skin felt under his lips.

"See you soon," said Yao as Ivan moved toward the door.

"Do svidaniya, Yao!"

* * *

><p>After Ivan left, Yao lay down on the sofa, stretching his legs out as far as he could on the short couch. He thought that Ivan, who was much taller than him, must have had a hard time sleeping on it last night.<p>

Yao gathered up the blanket and pillows from the sofa and set about putting them back in the hall closet where he had found them. He'd have to find Ivan somewhere else to sleep. There was only one bedroom in the house, but perhaps there was a foldout bed or a spare mattress hidden somewhere. If there wasn't, Yao supposed he could allow Ivan to sleep in his bed — it was big enough for them to be able to sleep side by side without being too intimate. Yao did kind of like the idea of them sleeping together in the most innocent sense of the word. And as for the other kind of sleeping together? Yao didn't want to have sex with Ivan — not just yet, anyway. Ivan would, of course — if the fact that they had done it before Yao had lost his memory didn't make that obvious, the way that he looked at him did. Oh, Ivan looked at Yao like he loved him, but it was also obvious that he lusted after him.

That complicated their relationship. While Ivan had known Yao for a long time and grown to love him, Yao felt as if he had only just met him. From Yao's perspective, they _had_ just met. Yao felt bad for Ivan — he had spent a year building a relationship with a man that he loved, a man that loved him back, only to have a tragic accident wipe his lover's mind of any memories concerning the two of them. Yao wanted his memories back, but not for his own sake — for Ivan, for his mother, for everyone else who would be hurt if he couldn't remember them.

Yao sighed. He shouldn't blame himself, it wasn't his fault. All he could do was be grateful that everyone was being so understanding, especially Ivan.

Yao had no idea what he had done to earn the Russian's love, but he was glad of it.

* * *

><p>Ivan's apartment was big. It had three bedrooms, a large living room and a sizable balcony that overlooked the busy city street. It also happened to be almost completely devoid of furniture. In one of the bedrooms there was a bed and a dresser that doubled as a nightstand, but the other three were empty. The living room housed only a sofa, a TV and a stereo, and there were no tables or chairs, as Ivan either ate his meals on the sofa or standing up in the kitchen. The walls were completely bare of pictures and paintings — the only photograph in the apartment was in a frame on the dresser in the bedroom. That was the photograph that Ivan was now looking at.<p>

The picture was of his family, not long after Natalia was born. His father was sitting on a worn leather armchair, with five-year-old Ivan and eight-year-old Anastasiya sitting on his lap. Their mother was sitting on the armrest of the chair, holding baby Natalia. You could tell just by looking at them that they were a family. Little Ivan had his mother's eyes and his father's nose, and all three of the children had silver-blonde hair, the same colour that their mother's was and their father's had been before it had turned grey. They all looked very happy — even Natalia, who couldn't have been more than a few months old, was smiling. Ivan could tell that his own smile was genuine. The photo had been taken before he started school, before the bullying and teasing and ridicule, back when he had been happy.

Ivan smiled. He had been happy then and he was happy now. He had Yao, and even though a wrong word or a recovered memory could shatter that happiness, he was content to live in the moment and not worry about when that would happen.

Ivan picked up the photo frame and put it into the suitcase that he had been packing with the things that he wanted to take with him to Yao's place. There wasn't much — just clothes, mostly. He could keep everything else at the apartment — although Ivan would be living with Yao, he would probably keep paying rent for this place so he'd have somewhere to go if Yao was too upset to stand being near him when he found out that he had lied. He had more than enough money to do that, even though he'd probably have to tell Yao where _that_ came from eventually. He could lie, of course, but somehow it didn't quite feel right. He was already lying enough — he wanted to be honest with Yao whenever possible.

_If he asks me, I'll tell him_, thought Ivan, _if he asks me, I'll tell him anything, except the truth about our relationship_.

That was fair. Ivan was lying to Yao, and _maybe_ that was a little wrong, but being truthful about everything else more than made up for it, right?

_Right_.

Ivan closed the suitcase. He would go and get breakfast for himself and Yao, go home (Yao's place was his home now, in a way that his apartment had never been) and then he would take Yao on the date he had planned and promised. That was how their life together would begin. There was no need to give any thought to how it would end.

* * *

><p>Yao was lying on the sofa watching TV when Ivan arrived home. He'd spent quite some time looking through the paintings he'd found in the spare room while searching for a foldout bed or blow up mattress for Ivan to sleep on. The paintings, it seemed, were his own work, judging by the signature in the bottom right corner of each one. Yao had also experimented with doodling some things on a newspaper that he found on the kitchen table, and was pleased to find that he was still very good at drawing.<p>

"Privet, Yao," Ivan said cheerfully as he handed Yao a cup of coffee and a muffin, keeping another coffee for himself, "I hope you like what I got you."

"I'm sure I will. What's in the suitcase?" asked Yao.

"Just some things of mine. Clothes," said Ivan.

"Ah, of course," said Yao, sipping his coffee, "you can come and put them away in the bedroom if you'd like. I noticed that the couch was a bit short, especially since you're so tall, so if you don't mind I thought you might prefer to sleep with me."

It took Yao a moment to realise what he had said.

"Sleep in the same room as me, I mean! In the same bed! In the most innocent sense of the word! You can sleep next to me, be asleep next to me, in a completely non-sexual way. My bed is big enough for both of us to sleep in without it being too intimate," he explained.

"Awww, you got my hopes up for a moment. But that's fine, I'd love to sleep with you in a very innocent manner," said Ivan, sitting down on the sofa beside Yao.

They sat in silence — comfortable silence — as they both drank their coffee and Yao finished his muffin.

"Are you ready?" Ivan asked.

"For what?" asked Yao, sounding confused.

"Our date!" said Ivan.

"Right! Where are we going?" asked Yao.

"It's a surprise!" said Ivan.

"Well, let's get going," said Yao, kissing Ivan on the cheek before getting up of the sofa.

He picked up Ivan's suitcase to move it to the bedroom, not noticing the reaction that his bending over elicited in Ivan. Yao came back out of the bedroom, having taken off his jacket while he was in there.

"Are you sure you need that coat and scarf? It's really hot today," said Yao.

Even though Ivan had changed his clothes, he was still dressed for cold weather.

"I told you, I'm very sensitive to the cold," said Ivan.

"No you didn't," said Yao.

"Oh. I must have told you that before," said Ivan.

"I'm sorry," said Yao.

"You don't have to be sorry, Yao. Everything we did before we can do again. I'll make it even better than before. You don't have to feel that you're missing out on anything because you've lost your memories," said Ivan.

"Ivan, you don't have to—"

"Yao, I want to make you happy, because it makes me happy. I don't _have_ to do that, but I want to. Now, let's get going," said Ivan.

Yao followed Ivan out the door and into the black car parked on the driveway.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" asked Yao.

"You'll see when we get there," said Ivan, putting the key in the ignition.

As the car turned on, the stereo came to life, playing a song in Russian. At least, Yao thought it was Russian.

Yao leaned across to plant a kiss on Ivan's lips before the taller man began driving.

"You're the best boyfriend I could hope for," he said.

Ivan smiled. He loved that he made Yao happy. He loved that Yao _was_ happy. He loved Yao, full stop.

"So are you," Ivan murmured, before backing out of the driveway.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**Even though I've been updating this once a week, I might not be able to do that quite as often since school started up. Then again, I'm taking a study period this year, so I might be able to get a lot of writing done then. So we'll see. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and as always I'm very grateful for all of the positive feedback I received for the last one!**


	5. Carnival of Sorts

**Author's note:**

**Aaaaa, I am so sorry that this chapter took so long. I had school, which eats away at my writing time and then I was busy at the weekend... however, I did manage to get this chapter done, and hopefully the length makes up for the wait — it's the longest chapter of _One Little Lie_ so far (and the longest chapter I've written for any fanfic at all, but considering my tendency to write fairly short chapters, that's not much of an achievement). Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this chapter and that the story is going in a direction that you like.**

* * *

><p>The car slowed to a halt, and a moment later the music stopped, as did the sound of the engine.<p>

"Can I open my eyes yet?" asked Yao. About ten minutes ago, Ivan had told him to close his eyes so it would be a complete surprise when they arrived at their destination.

"Da, you can," said Ivan.

Yao opened his eyes and looked out the window of the car. They had stopped at a fairground on the outskirts of a suburb that Yao didn't recognise.

"They have this fair around this time each year. I've never been before, but I've known people who have and they always say that they had a great time," said Ivan.

He had heard people talk about it — more like _overheard_ them — but the way he said it made it sound like he actually had friends. If he did have any, he had left them behind in Russia, and even then, he wasn't sure if he would class Toris, Eduard and Raivis as 'friends.' But that was okay, he had Yao now. Ivan didn't need anyone else.

Yao unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to kiss him.

"Thank you, Ivan," he murmured.

Ivan smiled and got out of the car. Yao got out of the other side, walked around to where Ivan was standing and took his hand.

"Let's go," said Ivan, and they walked into the fair together, hand in hand.

Ivan looked around at the crowd, wondering if any of the people knew Yao. They might — he'd lived in the city for his entire life, he was bound to know a lot of people.

Ivan noticed Yao staring intently at something, and wondered if he recognised someone. He only knew Kiku, though, so if he did recognise anyone else, it would mean his memories had started coming back.

Ivan followed Yao's line of sight and was relieved to find that he was actually looking at a stall selling inflatable children's toys. In particular, he was looking at the Hello Kitty toy in the centre of the display. Ivan had noticed that Yao had a considerable amount of Hello Kitty merchandise in his house — a bottle of hand lotion in the bathroom, a plushie in the bedroom and probably several other things that he hadn't come across just yet.

"Do you want that?" asked Ivan.

"Hmmm?" Yao asked, looking up at him.

"The kitty doll thing. You were looking at it like you wanted it," said Ivan.

"It's cute," Yao said defensively, blushing slightly.

"So are you," said Ivan, "do you want me to buy it for you?"

"You don't have to. It's probably pretty expensive, and I don't need it," said Yao.

"But you want it," replied Ivan.

"Yes, but—"

"And I want to buy it for you," said Ivan.

Yao sighed. "You don't have to. Why don't we get something to eat?" he asked.

"That sounds like a good idea," said Ivan, a plan already forming in his mind.

"What do you want to eat?" asked Yao.

"Anything is fine with me. You choose," said Ivan.

"Uh…" said Yao, looking around at the nearby stalls, "donuts, I guess, if you want."

"Sure! I think I dropped my phone over there, so I'll give you some money and go look for it while you buy us some food," said Ivan, getting a twenty dollar note out of his wallet and handing it to Yao.

"Do you want me to help you look for it?" asked Yao.

"No, no, I'll find it myself," said Ivan.

He wandered away, not bothering to look for his phone, as he hadn't actually lost it. Looking over his shoulder to make sure Yao wasn't watching him, Ivan made his way toward the stall that had caught Yao's eye.

"How much does that cost?" he asked the woman running the stall, pointing at the Hello Kitty inflatable on display.

"Six dollars," said the woman, looking vaguely surprised that a grown man would be interested in such things.

"I would like to buy one," said Ivan, pulling out his wallet and handing the woman six dollars.

She reached beneath the stall counter and pulled out a plastic package containing a deflated Hello Kitty, opened the package and hooked it up to a pump.

"You want this inflated, right?" she asked.

Ivan nodded.

As he waited for the woman to inflate the toy, Ivan glanced over at Yao and found that he was talking to someone — a young blonde man with glasses. Ivan wondered who he was. He'd briefly worried that perhaps Yao already had a boyfriend or a girlfriend, but had quickly dismissed the thought. If Yao was already in a relationship, he wouldn't have slept with Ivan. Ivan also recalled Yao saying something along the lines of _I've never done this before_ on that night, but he wasn't quite sure what he had been referring to. A one night stand? Sex with another man? Sex in general?

Whatever Yao had done in the past, he no longer had any memory of it. His life was a clean slate, and his future could be spent with Ivan. Even if the blonde man was an old lover of Yao's, it wouldn't matter. Besides, if Yao's mother and Kiku had been surprised about his sexuality, then he probably hadn't dated men before. One thing that had worried Ivan was the idea that Yao had been in another relationship during the year that he had supposedly been with Ivan. It wasn't jealousy, it just wouldn't be good if Yao thought that he had been in two relationships at once. Then again, Yao's mother hadn't mentioned anything of the sort and neither had Kiku. Ivan was going to have to hope that Yao had told his family everything.

Once the Hello Kitty doll had finished being inflated, the woman manning the stall handed it to Ivan, who walked over to Yao as quickly as he could without breaking into a run.

"Yao, look what I bought you!" he said, presenting the inflated toy to his boyfriend, completely ignoring the man that Yao had been talking to.

Yao took the toy from Ivan and hugged it against his body.

"It's so cute! Thank you, Ivan," said Yao.

Now that he was closer, Ivan recognised the blonde man as being one of the people that had been with Yao when Ivan had met him.

"This is my boyfriend, Ivan," Yao told the man, "and this is Alfred. We work together."

"Oh, privet Alfred," said Ivan.

"Hey. So, if you're Yao's boyfriend, how come he's never mentioned you before?" asked Alfred.

"Ivan and I—well, before I lost my memory, at least, we were worried about what people would think of us being together when we're both men," explained Yao. Ivan was pleased to hear Yao telling Alfred his lies as if they were true — it probably sounded more genuine coming from someone who actually believed it.

"Well, you know what they say, those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. Also, you look like a girl, so random people who don't know you probably wouldn't realise that you and Ivan are gay even if you started making out with him in the middle of the street," said Alfred.

"I do not look like a girl!" Yao said indignantly.

Alfred was right — with his long hair, feminine features and slim, girlish physique, Yao did look quite a bit like a girl, especially now that he was clutching a Hello Kitty toy.

When nobody said anything to agree with him, Yao sighed and held up the brown paper bag in his hand.

"I bought donuts if anyone wants some," he said.

"I'll have some," said Alfred, grabbing a tiny donut from the bag, "oh, hey! They're miniature! Does that mean I can have a couple of them?"

"I guess so," said Yao.

Alfred grabbed a handful of mini donuts and shoved them all into his mouth.

"Deshe a rey goo," he said through a mouthful of food.

"What?" asked Yao.

Alfred swallowed and spoke again.

"I said that these are really good."

"They probably are. Do you want some, Ivan?" asked Yao.

"Da, I'll have one," said Ivan, grabbing a single donut and putting it in his mouth.

Like Alfred, Yao tried eating a few of the donuts at once, although at least he didn't try to talk while eating.

"Do you guys mind if I hang around with you for a while? I didn't actually come here with anyone, since Arthur's out of town this weekend and everyone else is—actually, I completely forgot to ask Matthew. Anyway, can I hang out with you for a while?" asked Alfred.

"I don't mind. What about you, Ivan?" asked Yao.

"I don't see why not," said Ivan. He had hoped that he and Yao would be able to enjoy the fair together, but he didn't really mind the presence of the peculiar American. Besides, getting to know Yao's friends seemed like a good idea.

Ivan slipped his hand into the bag of donuts, but found that it was empty.

"Did the two of you eat all of them already?" he asked.

Yao nodded guiltily, while Alfred just grinned.

"You shouldn't leave me around food and not expect it to be eaten," he said.

"If you're still hungry, Ivan, we can get more," said Yao.

"Nyet, I'm not that hungry, but if you want more, I'll buy some," Ivan told Yao.

"No, I'm fine," said Yao. He stood on his tiptoes to kiss Ivan.

Yao's kiss tasted sweet from the donuts he had been eating. Ivan slipped his tongue inside the smaller man's mouth, exploring the warm, wet cavern. He could feel Yao's arms around him, their bodies pressed together as the light breeze blowing through the fairground caused Yao's hair to tickle Ivan's cheek.

"I love you, Yao," Ivan said when his lips left the smaller man's.

"I… I really like you, Ivan. And I'm sorry that I can't—"

"That's good enough for me," said Ivan.

"So, uh… what are we going to do? I mean, if you two need some time alone, I can go," said Alfred.

"No, no, we can… go get something to eat," said Yao.

"Didn't we just eat?" asked Ivan.

"That was just a snack, though, wasn't it?" asked Alfred.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," said Yao, "besides, you hardly had any donuts, Ivan."

"Well, if you want more food I can buy something for you," said Ivan.

"Only if you want to," said Yao.

"Can you buy me something too? I'm out of money, but I promise I'll pay you back," said Alfred.

"Da, I can do that," said Ivan.

"There's a building over at the south end of the fairground that's basically a cafeteria. They sell all sorts of food — at least they did last year, I'm assuming they still do," said Alfred.

"That sounds good," said Yao, taking Ivan's hand and walking off in the direction of the building that Alfred had mentioned.

"Yao! You dropped your cat thing!" said Alfred, handing Yao the Hello Kitty toy.

"Oh, thanks. I don't know how I could have forgotten it," said Yao, hugging the toy against his body with one arm and holding onto Ivan's hand with the other.

It didn't take long for them to reach the cafeteria, which was crowded and busy — moreso than the rest of the fair.

"If you guys find a table, I can go and grab us some food. You just need to tell me what you want and give me some money," said Alfred.

"You probably know what sort of food I eat better than I do, So just get me something you think I'd like," said Yao.

"I'll just have whatever. Here's some cash," said Ivan, handing Alfred a fifty dollar note, "do _not_ spend all of it, and give me whatever change is left over."

As Alfred went to purchase their food, Ivan and Yao looked around the room for a place to sit, eventually settling for a table in the far corner.

"You don't seem very interested in food," Yao commented as he sat down across the table from his boyfriend.

"I like food, I'm just not as enthusiastic about it as you and Alfred. Also, most of my favourite foods are Russian, so they're sort of hard to come across around here. I'm also very fond of your cooking, Yao," said Ivan.

"Well, hopefully I didn't lose my cooking skills along with my memory," said Yao.

"I'm sure you won't have," said Ivan.

Yao reached across the table and took hold of Ivan's hand. Ivan liked how Yao was not reluctant at all to display affection for him, even though they had only just met. Even though he knew that Yao's belief that they had been together for a long time was probably the reason, Ivan hoped that it was at least partially because Yao genuinely liked him. Yao had remarked a few times how nice Ivan was and how lucky he was to have such a devoted boyfriend, so it might be. Ivan wanted Yao to like him for who he was, not for the relationship that had never been.

Ivan was still wondering when Alfred came back, carrying a huge amount of food in his arms.

"Yao, I got you these noodly things and also a cup of tea but I have to go back to get that, and Ivan, I got you some fries and a can of lemonade because I figured everyone likes that sort of thing, and here's your change," he said, handing the leftover notes and coins to Ivan.

"And the rest of that is yours?" Yao asked, looking dubiously at the rest of the food.

"Yep. I couldn't decide if I wanted a hotdog or a corndog, so I got both, and then the lady in front of me got this really nice looking burger so I got myself one as well," said Alfred.

"And a milkshake?" asked Yao.

"And a milkshake. I'll go get your tea," said Alfred.

Yao let go of Ivan's hand and started eating the bowl of noodles in front of him.

"They look good," said Ivan.

"They are. You can try some of you'd like," said Yao.

"Okay," said Ivan.

Yao leaned over the table and put forkful of noodles in Ivan's mouth.

"Like it?" asked Yao.

Ivan nodded.

"Do you want more?" asked Yao.

"If you don't mind," Ivan said after swallowing his first mouthful.

Yao helped himself to some of the meal before grabbing another forkful for Ivan.

"Yao, I got your tea," said Alfred as he placed a teacup on the table in front of Yao.

"Thank you, Alfred," said Yao, handing his fork to Ivan and taking a sip of tea.

Alfred said something in reply, but it was completely incomprehensible due to the fact that he was now eating his burger.

They sat in silence for a moment as they ate, or at least as close to silence as one can get when dining with a noisy eater like Alfred.

Ivan was happy. Just being with Yao and knowing that the other was enjoying his company made him happier than he had been in years.

"Yao, what was _that_?" asked Alfred, and Ivan looked up from his food just in time to see Yao's cheeks turn pink.

"I thought it was Ivan," Yao said, looking very embarrassed.

"What happened?" asked Ivan. As far as he could see, nothing was amiss, and he hadn't heard anything strange either.

"Yao was just rubbing his leg against mine in a very seductive manner," said Alfred, taking a bite of his hot dog even though he hadn't finished the burger.

"I didn't know it was your leg! I can't see under the table!" said Yao.

Ivan grinned. Yao was so cute when he was flustered, and the idea that he had been attempting to do seductive leg things to him under the table was a very pleasing thought indeed.

"Yeah, well maybe you should look before you do that. I mean, I don't think your boyfriend would appreciate you molesting other people's legs like that," said Alfred.

"It wasn't molesting, it was supposed to be affectionate. And it wasn't directed at you anyway," Yao said defensively.

"Yao, I was kidding. That's the sort of thing we do," said Alfred.

"Molest each other's legs?" asked Yao.

"What? No, I mean joking around and playfully insulting each other. You, me, Arthur and Francis. Oh, and Mattie. To other people it probably looks like we can't stand each other, but we're actually pretty good friends," explained Alfred.

"It seems so strange that I have these friends that I've never met," mused Yao.

"Well, you can meet them this Friday, unless you're coming back to work before then," said Alfred.

"What's happening on Friday?" asked Yao.

"We're having a get-together at Francis's place, and I'm sure he won't uninvite you just because you've lost your memories. You can probably bring Ivan along too if you want," said Alfred.

"Oh, okay. I'll think about it, I guess. Won't it be awkward if I don't know anyone?" asked Yao.

"Well, you know me, don't you? Besides, it might trigger your memory. That happens in TV shows all the time — you do something that you've done before and then you've got your memories back by the end of the episode!" said Alfred.

"I've been told not to be too hopeful that it will happen that quickly, but perhaps hanging out with my friends from before I lost my memory will help," said Yao.

"Well, even if it doesn't work, you'll get your memories back eventually, right?" asked Alfred.

"Yes, it's almost definite that I'll regain my memory eventually, it's just a matter of when," said Yao.

"Well, I hope it's soon. It must be hard not remembering anything," said Alfred.

"It's a bit strange, but everyone's been so nice and supportive about it so it's not terrible. Especially Ivan, he's been amazing," said Yao.

Ivan smiled. He was glad that Yao thought so highly of him. Ivan _was_ being nice, but Yao made it easy for him. He wanted to be a good boyfriend to Yao and make him happy, not just so the smaller man would fall in love with him but because Yao deserved to be happy.

Instead of saying all of that to Yao, Ivan leaned across the table and placed a kiss on the smaller man's lips.

"Dude, your scarf's going in my hot dog," commented Alfred.

Ivan pulled the scarf out of the way, momentarily checking to see if any sauce had gotten on it.

"Are you gonna eat those?" Alfred asked, looking pointedly at Ivan's virtually untouched fries.

"If you want them you can have them," said Ivan.

Alfred grabbed a handful of fries and shoved them in his mouth.

"I'm kind of full, actually," said Yao, pushing his bowl of noodles into the centre of the table.

"I'll have them," said Alfred.

"How are you still hungry?" asked Yao.

"I'm not hungry, I'm just not full either, and I like food, so I might as well eat some," explained Alfred.

"What should we do once we've finished here? I've never actually been to this thing before, do what is there to do?" asked Ivan.

"There's heaps of things to do. Come to think of it, most of them are food, but they also have games and stalls and a ferris wheel… at least, they did last year, so they probably will again this year," said Alfred.

"Okay, once you've finished eating we can go and see what they have this time," said Yao.

"Sure, I'll just quickly finish up," said Alfred.

He scoffed the rest of his food and stood up. The other two followed suit, Yao taking care not to leave his Hello Kitty toy behind again.

As they walked outside, Yao grabbed Ivan's hand.

"Are you having a good time?" Ivan asked as they followed Alfred through the fairground.

"I'm having a great time. It was a good idea to come here," said Yao, gently squeezing Ivan's hand.

"I'm glad you're having fun," Ivan said, placing a chaste kiss on Yao's forehead.

"Are you having fun?" asked Yao.

"Of course. I'll always be happy when I'm with you," said Ivan.

"You're so sweet," said Yao.

"Only to you," said Ivan.

"Hey, I bet I can win one of these games. One of you should give me some more money so I can try," said Alfred.

"These sorts of games are all rigged so you can't win, aren't they?" asked Ivan.

"Even if they are, I bet I can still win at least one of them," said Alfred.

"How about I give you twenty dollars and about half an hour, and if you win any prizes, you don't have to pay me back," suggested Ivan.

"And if I don't win any?" asked Alfred.

"I'll think of something," said Ivan, handing Alfred a twenty dollar note.

"Cool, I'll see you guys soon," said Alfred, running off in search of a game stall.

"Do you really think he won't win anything?" asked Yao.

"I don't know, or really care. If he wins and doesn't have to pay me back, then so be it. Alfred seems like a nice guy, but I'd quite like to spend some time alone with you," said Ivan.

"Awww. What are we going to do, then?" asked Yao.

"Anything you like," said Ivan, wrapping his arms around Yao's slim figure. Yao put his arm that wasn't holding the Hello Kitty around Ivan and laid his head on the taller man's chest.

"I just like being with you like this," he murmured.

"Well, we can go and sit down somewhere and just rest together," suggested Ivan.

"That sounds nice," said Yao, letting go of Ivan.

They wandered around until they found an empty patch of grass between a grandstand and a stage, neither of which were in use. They sat down side by side, Yao resting his head on Ivan's shoulder.

"It's such a hot day. How can you stand wearing a coat and scarf on a day like this?" asked Yao, gently fingering the soft fabric of Ivan's scarf.

"It's a little bit hot but not unbearably so," said Ivan.

"Really? I'm just wearing a t-shirt and shorts and yet I'm so hot that I'd like to take them off," said Yao.

"You should," said Ivan.

"Oh, definitely," Yao said sarcastically, moving so that his head was on Ivan's lap.

Ivan gently ran his fingers through Yao's hair.

"I love your hair," he murmured, "it's so beautiful."

"I love your eyes," Yao replied, lazily closing his own eyes.

"I love _you_," said Ivan.

"Hmmm," was Yao's only reply.

Ivan wasn't really sure about whether or not he should keep saying that sort of thing. On one hand, he did love Yao, and he would feel bad not telling him that now and then, but he worried that Yao felt bad for not being able to say it back — to Yao, it seemed like they had only known each other for a few days. They _had_ only known each other for a few days, but Yao didn't know that, and even after such a short time, Ivan knew that he was in love.

"We never got to do this sort of thing before, did we?" Yao asked.

"What?" asked Ivan.

"Going places like this together. Before I lost my memory, when our relationship was a secret, we never would have done things like this," said Yao.

"No, we didn't," said Ivan.

Yao changed position again, this time so he was kneeling in front of Ivan, and kissed the Russian on the lips.

"We would never have done that either," he said.

"Not somewhere like this," said Ivan.

"I'm glad that we can now," said Yao.

"Da, so am I," said Ivan.

Yao pressed his forehead against Ivan's and placed his hands on the bigger man's hips. Ivan loved that he was being so physical and affectionate.

"Hey Yao, since I promised I'd ask permission first, can I touch your butt now?" Ivan playfully asked.

"No! There are people watching," protested Yao.

"There are people around but I doubt they're watching us," said Ivan.

"Even so, I'd rather you didn't," said Yao.

"Okay," said Ivan, "I can wait."

Yao smiled and lay down beside Ivan.

"You should lie with me," said Yao.

_You should lie with me._

_You should **lie**._

Ivan ignored the secondary meaning that Yao's innocent comment could have and lay his body down on the grass beside his darkhaired boyfriend.

"The sky is beautiful today," commented Yao.

Ivan glanced up at the blue sky scattered with fluffy clouds. It was picture perfect, but Ivan found his eyes drawn back to Yao.

"It's nice, but it can't hold a candle to your beauty," he said.

"You're beautiful too, you know," said Yao, turning to look at Ivan.

The Russian raised an eyebrow incredulously at the smaller man.

"I'm being serious, Ivan. I think that you're really attractive. I wouldn't be saying it if it wasn't true," said Yao.

Ivan reached out and gently touched Yao's face.

"I'm so lucky to have you," said Ivan.

"And I'm lucky to have you," said Yao.

"I guess we're both lucky," said Ivan.

* * *

><p>"Guys, I won something! I don't owe anyone any money any more!"<p>

Alfred's voice broke the content silence that Yao and Ivan had been enjoying for the past fifteen or so minutes. Yao liked talking to Ivan, but he enjoyed the Russian's presence no matter what they were doing, whether it be chatting, kissing or just sitting in silence.

Yao looked up to see that Alfred was holding an inflatable alien toy.

"Where'd you win that?" asked Ivan, sitting up to get a better look.

"I won it at the ring-toss stall, see!" said Alfred, turning the alien around to show the others a neon pink sticker on the back of his head with _PRIZE_ written on it in crude, black handwriting.

"Well, I guess you don't owe me any money after all," said Ivan.

"I also bought these," said Alfred, rummaging around in his jacket pockets.

"What?" asked Yao.

"Frozen jelly sticks! They're like jelly, but frozen," explained Alfred, pulling the frozen jelly sticks out of his pocket, "you guys can have some too. There's strawberry, orange and… whatever flavour blue is."

He sat down beside Ivan and handed him and Yao a jelly stick each.

"Thanks," said Yao, trying but failing to open the plastic packaging.

"They're kinda hard to get into," said Alfred, even though he had already opened his and sucked half of the jelly out of it.

Yao gave up on trying to open it with his fingers and ripped the end of the package open with his teeth. He grabbed Ivan's and did the same.

"You're quite handy with that mouth of yours, Yao. I wonder what else you can do with it…" said Ivan.

"Oh, I'm sure you already know," said Yao, leaning against the taller man's shoulder. Even though he thought that Ivan's insistence on wearing a thick winter coat on such a hot day was weird, Yao liked how soft and comfortable it made him to lean on.

"How long are we going to stay here?" asked Yao.

"Right here or at the fairground?" asked Ivan.

"At the fairground," said Yao.

"As long as you want. Why do you ask? Do you want to go home now?" asked Ivan.

"I don't know, maybe. If you want to stay, I don't mind," said Yao.

"What about you, Alfred? Do you mind if we leave?" asked Ivan.

"I don't mind. I've been here for ages so I'm probably going to go soon anyway," said Alfred.

"Yao?"

"Yeah, if you don't want to do anything else here we can go," said Yao.

"Hey Ivan, do you want your money back? You gave me twenty bucks but I didn't spend it all," said Alfred.

"No, you can keep it. Buy something to eat for you and your alien friend," said Ivan.

Yao stood up and extended his hand to Ivan. The Russian grabbed ahold of it, and Yao pulled him into a standing position before bending down to pick up the Hello Kitty and the jelly stick wrapper that he had left on the ground.

"I'll see you again sometime, Alfred," he said.

"Yeah, definitely. If you're coming on Friday I can pick you up and take you guys to Francis's place, since you probably wouldn't know where it is," said Alfred.

"Okay, I'll see you then, maybe," said Yao.

"Do svidaniya, Alfred," said Ivan, taking Yao's as he started to walk away.

"I have no idea what that means. You better not be calling me fat or stupid or something," called Alfred.

"It means goodbye!" Ivan replied.

As they walked, Yao grabbed Ivan's hand. He liked the feeling of the Russian's bigger hand against his own, it made him feel safe and secure. He knew that Ivan would protect him from anyone or anything that tried to hurt him, but he also knew that Ivan needed protecting too — after hearing about his miserable childhood, Yao knew that Ivan needed someone to be there for him. Yao had been that person before and he could be it again.

"Thank you so much for today, Ivan, I really enjoyed it," Yao said as he climbed into the car.

"I'm glad I made you happy," said Ivan.

"I really like you, Ivan. I think I understand why I loved you," said Yao, lazily reclining in the passenger seat. The heat inside the car was making him drowsy.

Ivan affectionately ran his hand up Yao's bare leg.

"Spasibo," he murmured.

"What?" asked Yao.

"It means thank you," said Ivan.

"For what?" asked Yao.

"For everything."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**To be honest, the reason that Yao almost forgets his inflatable Hello Kitty a couple of times in this chapter is that _I_ completely forgot about it a couple of times and failed to mention where it had been left and whether he was still carrying it or not. I hope that my portrayal of Alfred was in character and to your liking. We'll be seeing some of Yao's other friends in future chapters.**

**Oh, and frozen jelly sticks are real. And _delicious_.**

**I don't think I have anything else to say about this chapter, other than apologizing again for its lateness, so I will leave you will this.**


	6. Doctor My Eyes

By midnight the hot sun and the warmth of the day were both gone, but Yao was comfortably warm in his flannel pyjamas and thick quilt. Ivan had gone to have a shower, but since Yao could no longer hear the sound of the water running, he figured that it wouldn't be long before the Russian came back into the bedroom.

Yao heard the door open and looked up to see Ivan standing in the doorway. He was wearing his scarf and a pair of dark red pyjama pants, but his chest was bare. Yao had only ever seen Ivan wearing thick bulky coats — he had been distracted last night when Ivan had come out of the bathroom wearing only a bathrobe— and so he had assumed that underneath his clothes, the Russian would be at the very least a little bit pudgy. As it turned out, Yao's assumption had been completely incorrect. Ivan's body was not soft and chubby but instead fit and muscular, and Yao found the reality to be far more appealing.

"It's cold," Ivan said as he crossed the room and climbed into bed next to Yao, "it's a good thing I've got you to warm me up."

Yao smiled. "You should take your scarf off, otherwise it could choke you in the night," he warned.

"I've slept in it before and that never happened," said Ivan.

"Even so, it'd still worry me," said Yao.

"If it bothers you then of course I'll take it off," said Ivan, taking the scarf off and putting it on the bedside table before lying back down beside Yao.

"Do you want me to turn the light off?" Ivan asked, reaching for the bedside lamp.

"Okay," said Yao.

Ivan flicked the switch, and the room went pitch black.

In the darkness, Yao didn't have to worry about Ivan noticing that his eyes kept straying from his face and gazing at his body — an image that Yao had already committed to memory. He hadn't considered that Ivan wouldn't actually mind, that the bigger man would enjoy having Yao look at him like that.

"Goodnight, my beautiful Yao," Ivan murmured, and Yao felt a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Goodnight," said Yao, rolling over so that he was lying on his stomach.

Even though his body wasn't touching Ivan's, Yao could feel the warmth of the man lying next to him. It didn't take long for the sound of the Russian's breathing to lull Yao into a deep sleep, and the absence of Ivan's sound, his heat, his very presence was obvious to Yao as soon as he woke up.

Ivan's absence didn't worry Yao, but without anybody to spend it with, a lazy morning in bed didn't seem as appealing as it would with Ivan beside him.

Yao sat up and swung his legs over the side of bed, noticing a piece of paper on the bedside table that had not been there last night. He picked up the note and read what was written on it.

_Good morning Yao. I hope you slept well. I am making you breakfast, but we're out of bread so I've gone to get some, so if I am not back by the time you wake, that is where I have gone. Much love, Ivan._

Yao smiled. Ivan's thoughtfulness was touching — making Yao's breakfast, going out of his way to make it perfect and leaving a note just in case Yao was worried about where he had gone.

Yao got out of bed and grabbed the towel that was hanging on the back of the computer chair. He hadn't showered last night, and since there wasn't really much else to do, now seemed like as good a time as any. Yao sleepily wandered across the hall to the bathroom, where he took off his pyjamas and threw them in the laundry basket. He took a moment to dampen a washcloth and clean his face with it; the cold water helped to wake him up a bit.

Yao examined his reflection in the mirror — slim, darkhaired and feminine, wearing only a pair of Hello Kitty boxers. His hair was tied back in a low ponytail that was now messy and almost undone from having slept in it and his nipples were already hard from being exposed to the cold morning air.

Yao paid particular attention to this last detail and moved his left hand up to his chest, moving his thumb in light circles around one of the pink buds before gently pressing his finger against it. He shuddered at the pleasant sensation that this simple action elicited. He repeated it, moving his thumb slower and more deliberately around the sensitive bud before touching it; his finger more forceful than it had been the first time. Yao bit his lip to keep a moan from escaping and stumbled backwards so that he was leaning against the bathroom door. He brought his right hand up to his other nipple, pinching the sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger and shuddering again at the sensation. He continued to tease the stiff bud with one hand as the other trailed downwards toward the erection straining at his boxers. Yao gently touched his arousal through the fabric, stroking the hardened flesh beneath the thin layer of material. Just as Yao slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of the garment, the near-silence was broken by the sound of the phone ringing.

Yao reluctantly rushed down the hall to the kitchen, picked up the phone and held it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Yao. I was just wondering when you'll be coming back to work. Do you have any idea?" asked a British-accented voice.

"Uh… who is this?" asked Yao.

"Sorry. I'm Arthur Kirkland, we work together," said the voice.

"Oh, right, Alfred mentioned you. Um… I don't really know when I'll be coming back to work. I mean, I barely know anything about my job," said Yao.

"Of course, and I'm sure we'll be able to function without you for a little while at least, so you don't have to come back until you're ready. The work itself isn't too difficult, when you do come back I'll be able to run you through what to do," said Arthur.

"Okay, I'll give it some thought," said Yao.

He leaned forward against the kitchen counter, whimpering as his stiff member pressed against the protruding cupboard handle.

"Yao, are you okay?" asked Arthur.

"I'm fine, I just hit my foot on the table," Yao lied.

"Ouch. Anyway, I'll let you go now. I hope you regain your memories soon. Goodbye," said Arthur.

"Bye," Yao said as he hung up.

Standing alone in the kitchen, Yao wondered what would happen if Ivan came home and found him like that, hard and half naked.

_He would ravish me, _thought Yao, _and I would let him._

The Russian obviously lusted after him as well as loving him, and in Yao's current state, he didn't think he could refuse.

Before Yao could return to the bathroom and finish what he had started, the phone rang again. He sighed and picked it up.

"Hello, Yao speaking," he said.

"Hello, this is Doctor Gilbert Beilschmidt," said the thickly accented caller.

"Oh, hello Doctor Beilschmidt. Are you the amnesia doctor?" asked Yao.

"Yes. Well, of course, I don't specialise in just amnesia, I'm an all-purpose psychiatrist, but I will be helping you with your memory loss," explained Doctor Beilschmidt.

"Do you think I'll recover?" asked Yao.

"I'd like to think so. The hospital sent me your file and the physical damage isn't too extensive, so you certainly have reason to be optimistic," said Doctor Beilschmidt, "however, the results won't be instantaneous, so don't be disappointed if you don't get all of your memories back right away."

"I understand," said Yao.

"Good, good. Anyway, the reason I called was to work out a time that suits you to have our sessions," said Doctor Beilschmidt.

"Well, at the moment I don't have work, so any time would be fine, at least until I start working again," said Yao.

"Hmmm… I know it's soon, but would this afternoon suit you? One thirty 'til two fifteen?" asked Doctor Beilschmidt.

"That sounds fine. Do I just come to the hospital?" asked Yao.

"No, I don't work for the hospital, I have my own independent practice. I'll give you the address. It's 445 Washington Avenue," said Doctor Beilschmidt.

"Okay, I'll see you there at one thirty," said Yao.

"Awesome," Doctor Beilschmidt said before hanging up.

Yao hadn't even put the phone down when it rang again. He answered it and held it up to his ear.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi Yao, I tried calling before but the line was engaged," said a voice that Yao recognised as his mother's.

"Oh, the doctor called me to organise an appointment," said Yao.

"Oh, of course. So how are you? How's Ivan? Has he been treating you right?" asked Yao's mother.

"I've been good, and Ivan's been wonderful. He took me to the fair yesterday, and we had a brilliant time," said Yao.

"That's wonderful! I'm glad you've been having fun. Anyway, I was just wondering if you and Ivan would like to come and visit this afternoon. I thought that maybe it would help with your memories — seeing the house where you grew up and everything. We haven't really changed your room since you moved out, so it might help you remember, don't you think?" asked his mother.

"That sounds like a good idea. Even if it doesn't trigger any memories, it would still be nice to see you. I have an appointment with the doctor this afternoon, so maybe we can visit afterwards," said Yao.

"That would be lovely," said Yao's mother.

"Um… what's the address?" asked Yao.

"16 Hoover Street. I'll get something for you to eat — what does Ivan like?" asked Yao's mother.

"Russian food, I think, but I don't really know what that is," said Yao.

"Oh. I'll just get a few things and hope he likes at least some of them," said Yao's mother.

"Okay. I look forward to seeing you," said Yao.

"See you," said Yao's mother.

Yao put the phone down and waited for a moment, wondering if it would ring again. It didn't, but the front door opened.

"Privet, Yao! I'm back!" said Ivan as he walked inside.

Yao saw the obvious change in Ivan's facial expression when he noticed that the smaller man was barely dressed. Yao was relieved that he was no longer visibly aroused, but he was still slightly embarrassed.

"I was going to have a shower but then the phone rang," he said.

"Do you want to go and have your shower now, or would you prefer to have breakfast first?" asked Ivan.

"I might have a shower now, if you don't mind," said Yao.

"I don't mind at all. How long do you think you'll take? Will you be washing your hair or doing anything else that takes extra time? I want to try and have your breakfast ready the second you are, not a minute before and not a minute later," said Ivan.

"What a sweet boyfriend you are! I should only take a normal amount of time in the shower," said Yao.

"I'm nice to you because I want nothing more than to see you happy — besides, breakfast won't be anything too fancy. You go enjoy your shower, it will be ready when you get out," said Ivan.

* * *

><p>"Yao, it's ready!" called Ivan, placing a plate of thickly buttered toast and a mug of hot chocolate on the table. It was a simple meal, but nevertheless a good one, and Ivan hoped that Yao would enjoy it. He had heard the shower turn off a few minutes ago, and figured that the smaller man would be dressed and ready for breakfast by now.<p>

"Just give me a minute!" Yao called back. A few moments later, he came out of the bedroom, dressed and with his long hair loose about his face.

"My hairtie broke. Do you know where I keep spare ones? Do I even have spares?" he asked exasperatedly.

"I don't know. You eat, I'll look for some," said Ivan.

"Thank you, Ivan. This breakfast looks delicious, you know," said Yao.

"Let's hope it tastes delicious too," said Ivan.

While Yao ate, Ivan looked around for a hairtie, but to no avail. In one of the drawers in the kitchen, however, he found a length of ribbon, presumably for gifts since there was also wrapping paper in the drawer, and held it up to show Yao.

"Will this do?" he asked.

"Sure," said Yao.

Standing behind Yao, Ivan gathered the smaller man's hair up into a ponytail and tied the ribbon around it, first in a simple knot and then in a bow.

"Huh, I didn't think that would work. You don't seem like the sort of person who would be good at that sort of thing," said Yao.

"Well, my little sister Natalia has always had long hair, just a little bit longer than yours, and when she was a kid she'd get Anastasiya or our mother to do things like that to it. I guess I picked up on how to do it from watching them," said Ivan.

Yao nodded and continued eating. With a pretty red ribbon in his hair, he looked even more feminine than usual — and, in Ivan's eyes at least, even more beautiful.

"That was really delicious," Yao said after swallowing his last mouthful of toast.

"I'm glad you liked it," said Ivan.

"Oh, I forgot to mention it earlier, but I have an appointment with the amnesia doctor at half past one, and my mother called and asked if we'd be able to go and see her afterwards," said Yao.

"That sounds good. After speaking to her on the phone the other day, I think I'd quite like to meet your mother. Perhaps if I drop you off at your appointment, I can go buy you some hairties before you're done and then we can go and visit her," said Ivan.

"That sounds like a plan. It's only ten now, so what should we do until then?" asked Yao.

"I don't know. I need to finish unpacking my things, but you can do whatever you like," said Ivan.

"I guess I could look through more of my things — I mean, I found those paintings yesterday, maybe if I find something else, it will trigger a memory or something," said Yao.

"Okay. Once I've finished putting my things away I could help you," said Ivan.

He wandered into the bedroom and opened his suitcase. Yao, who had followed him into the room, noticed the photo frame sitting on top of all of the clothes and picked it up.

"Hey, who's — oh my god, is that you?" asked Yao, pointing at the child-Ivan in the photograph.

"Da, that's me," said Ivan.

"Awww, you look so cute! These two are Anastasiya and Natalia, right?" asked Yao.

Ivan nodded. "Can I put my clothes in your dresser?" he asked.

"Of course. And these are your parents, right? What are their names?" asked Yao.

"My mother is Anya and my father is Vladislav. Or at least, they were — they're dead now," said Ivan.

"I'm sorry," said Yao.

"It's okay, it's been years since they died. I still miss them, though," said Ivan.

"Of course you do," said Yao, gently placing a hand on Ivan's shoulder.

"Would you mind if I put this picture somewhere around the house?" asked Ivan.

"I wouldn't mind at all. Put it wherever you want," said Yao.

"Is here good?" asked Ivan, setting the picture down on the desk beside the computer.

"It's as good as anywhere else," said Yao, sitting down on the computer chair.

"You look so cute with that bow in your hair, Yao. It's even the same colour as your shirt," said Ivan as he went back to putting his clothes in Yao's dresser.

"You have a very strange definition of cute, Ivan," said Yao.

"How is that strange?" asked Ivan.

"I don't know, I just don't think I would be classed as cute," said Yao.

"Oh, you're definitely cute. The cutest thing I've ever seen, actually," said Ivan.

"But… I'm not as cute as pandas!" said Yao.

"I think you're even cuter than pandas," said Ivan.

"Do you not like pandas?" asked Yao.

"I like them, I just like you more," said Ivan.

"But what about baby pandas? Baby pandas are the cutest things ever, I'll show you," said Yao, turning the computer on.

"You're cuter," Ivan said.

"And you are such a charmer. I think that about half of the things you've said to me have been compliments. Thank you, Ivan, you make me feel so special," said Yao.

Ivan smiled.

"I'm glad of that," he said.

He went back to unpacking the last of his clothes until Yao let out a gasp of surprise.

"What happened?" asked Ivan, looking up and seeing that Yao was merely looking at his desktop background, which was of a flower that Ivan didn't recognise.

"I typed in the password to my computer account, but I don't know how I knew it! I don't have any memories of it at all!" exclaimed Yao.

"Muscle memory. If you'd typed that password in many times before, it's muscle memory, which is different from autobiographical memory. Same thing with signing your name," said Ivan.

"Oh, wow. You've been doing your research," said Yao.

"Oh, no, I just saw that on a TV show. I never thought it would actually come in handy," said Ivan.

"Well, it's lucky that you knew that because otherwise I would have been very confused," said Yao.

"I suppose that is very lucky," said Ivan, closing the drawers and pushing the now empty suitcase under the bed, "you don't mind me keeping this here, do you?"

"Of course not. And dammit, apparently I'm out of internet usage for the month," said Yao, closing the browser window that he had just opened.

"You know, you could try looking through the computer to see if you can find out more about yourself. You might have pictures, music and documents that tell you a little bit about your life," suggested Ivan.

"That's a good idea," said Yao, clicking on the start menu and then the Pictures folder.

Inside were rows and rows of subfolders, more than could fit on the screen. While some had been given appropriate titles that gave one a fair idea of their content, other folders were named random strings of letters that had probably been the result of Yao smashing his hands against the keyboard instead of thinking of a proper name.

"How many folders do you have?" asked Ivan.

"Uh… jeez, it looks like hundreds," said Yao, scrolling down through the countless folders.

"Well, this will keep you occupied for a while. I'll go grab a chair from the kitchen so I can sit with you," said Ivan.

"Okay," said Yao, clicking on a folder titled _sjkdfhskdffhjd_ as Ivan walked out of the room.

* * *

><p>"Yao, it's nearly half past one," said Ivan, glancing at the clock on the other side of the room.<p>

He and Yao had spent about an hour and a half going through Yao's computer. They had found a couple of TV episodes in Yao's videos folder, and had spent a while watching those.

"Shit, we need to get going. I don't actually know how far it is to Doctor Beilschmidt's or what the traffic's like so we should probably leave now," said Yao.

"Okay, let's go," said Ivan.

"I'll just get the computer shut down. Why don't you grab the note with the address on it? It's on the kitchen counter," said Yao.

After they'd both done what they needed to do, they got into Ivan's car.

"You know, Ivan, I really liked just hanging out with you today. It's like we're friends as well as lovers," said Yao.

"I like that too, but I also like doing this sort of thing," said Ivan, leaning over to kiss Yao on the lips before beginning to back out of the driveway.

"I like that too," said Yao.

"We're going to Washington Avenue, right?" asked Ivan.

"Uh… yes," said Yao, glancing at the note with the address.

"Right, I know where that is," said Ivan.

It didn't take long for them to reach the address on Washington Avenue.

"It's a dentist's clinic," said Ivan, looking confusedly at the sign on the building that they had parked outside.

"That's weird. This is the right address, though, so I guess I should go and see if it's actually the right place," said Yao.

"Okay. Do you want me to wait in the car for you?" asked Ivan.

"No, I'll be fine. You can go home if you want, just remember to come back at two fifteen because otherwise I'll be stranded here," said Yao.

"Of course I'll remember," said Ivan.

"I'll see you then," said Yao, placing a kiss on the Russian's forehead before getting out of the car.

He walked into the building, not sure if he was even at the right place.

The inside of the building was unmistakably the waiting room of a dental clinic — the walls were covered in photographs and diagrams of teeth and mouths. Behind a desk on the other side of the room sat a girl who looked up when he heard Yao come in. She had short blonde hair and looked no older than fourteen, but since she was apparently working there, Yao figured that she must be older.

"Hello, do you have an appointment with Doctor Héderváry?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Uh… no…" said Yao, walking over to the desk.

"Do you want to arrange an appointment?" asked the girl. Now that he was closer, Yao could see that she had a nametag pinned to her shirt with _Lili_ written on it.

"I… no, no I think I'm at the wrong place," said Yao, turning to leave.

"Are you one of Gilbert's patients?" asked another voice, and Yao turned around to find a woman with long, light-brown hair standing in a previously closed doorway.

"You mean Doctor Beilschmidt?" asked Yao.

"Yes. I keep telling him that we need to put his name on the sign but he never does anything about it," said the woman, who Yao assumed was Doctor Héderváry.

"So I am at the right place?" asked Yao.

"Yes, Gil—Doctor Beilschmidt, I mean, has an office in this building. He'll be right through that door," said Doctor Héderváry, pointing at the door on the other side of the room.

"Thanks," said Yao, going through the door and finding himself in another waiting room, this one darker, smaller and emptier than the first. There was no receptionist to help him out, so he decided to knock on the only other door in the room. Before his hand could hit the wood, the door opened just a crack, and Yao found himself staring into a blood red eye.

Yao gasped and clasped his hand over his mouth.

"You're Yao, right?" asked the person in the other room as the door swung open to reveal it was not a sinister being as Yao had imagined but merely an unusual looking man with red eyes and pale skin. Despite his silver-white hair, he couldn't have been older than thirty.

"Yes. Are you Doctor Beilschmidt?" asked Yao.

"Yes, but you can call me Gilbert. You could also call me the Doctor of Awesomeness if you'd like."

"I think I'll just stick with Gilbert," said Yao.

"Alright, just come into my office and—" Gilbert stopped abruptly as if he had been interrupted.

Yao could hair piano music playing softly somewhere nearby, but doubted that that could be the cause of Gilbert angrily storming into his office, grabbing a broom and beginning to hit it against the ceiling while yelling angrily in what sounded like German.

"What are you doing?" Yao asked.

"The god damn pianist in the apartment on the second floor always practices his music in the room above my office when I have a patient with me," said Gilbert.

"I don't really mind the music. It doesn't really bother me at all," said Yao.

"Hmmm, well, he's stopped now, so let us begin," said Gilbert.

* * *

><p>Ivan had just parked his car on the side of the street when Yao came out of the building.<p>

"How was your appointment? Did you remember anything?" asked Ivan as Yao got into the passenger seat.

"I didn't regain any of my memories, but I wouldn't say that it was completely fruitless," said Yao.

"So it wasn't a dental clinic?" asked Ivan, starting the car.

"No, Gilbert just shares a building with the dental clinic," said Yao.

"And Gilbert is the doctor? What's he like?" asked Ivan.

"He's a bit eccentric, but he's a good doctor," said Yao.

"Well, that's good," said Ivan, "we're still going to see your mother, right?"

"Yeah," said Yao.

It didn't take long for them to find Hoover Street, which was in a suburb just outside of the city centre. Number 16, where Yao's mother lived, was a nice looking house with a big front yard.

"Is this it?" asked Ivan.

"I guess, unless it's another dental clinic," said Yao.

They both got out of the car and walked up the front path to the door. Ivan reached up to press the doorbell button, and the sound of it ringing echoed through the house.

"You can come inside!" came Yao's mother's voice from within the house.

Yao opened the door and walked inside, Ivan following behind him.

The front hall was clean and inviting, with soft carpet and light, floral wallpaper. On the walls were several photo frames, and Yao noticed that one in particular was of a young boy who looked uncannily familiar.

"Is that you?" asked Ivan.

"I think so," said Yao. The child had the same eyes, the same face and even the same long hair tied back in a ponytail.

"And that's Kiku, right?" asked Ivan, pointing at another photo.

"I guess," said Yao.

Yao looked up from the photographs just in time to see a woman coming down the staircase at the end of the hallway. She had shoulder-length black hair and was wearing a t-shirt and jeans — she almost looked too young to be the mother of a twenty-six year old.

"Yao, hi, I'm glad you made it. And you must be Ivan," said the woman.

Ivan nodded. "And you're Yao's mother, da?"

"Yes, but you can call me Chenguang or Cecilia," she said.

"You have two names?" asked Ivan.

"Cecilia is the name I took when I moved to the USA. Lots of people have trouble pronouncing my Chinese name, and others find it hard to spell on documents and such, so it was really a matter of convenience," said Yao's mother.

"Aw, but Chenguang is such a nice name. Did I say that right?" asked Ivan.

"You said it right, and thanks," said Chenguang.

"Ivan is such a charmer, always saying such lovely things to people," said Yao.

"I'm glad that you have such a lovely boyfriend. Would you like to come into the living room?" asked Yao's mother, leading them down the hall and into the lounge, "I've been baking, so I'll get some food for you. I don't know what you eat in Russia, but I figured you might prefer some western food, so I made cupcakes! I know you like my cupcakes, Yao."

"They sound delicious, but I don't mind Chinese food. Yao has made me some before and I really liked it, and I'm sure yours is nice too — I mean, he must have gotten his excellent cooking skills from somewhere," said Ivan as he and Yao sat down on the sofa.

"Oh, I see what Yao meant when he said that you were a charmer," said Chenguang, walking into the kitchen.

Ivan sank back into the comfortable sofa, finding and clasping Yao's hand as he did so. Chenguang seemed like a very nice woman, and Ivan knew that he had already made a good impression, but she knew Yao — she had raised him and probably knew him better than anyone else. If anyone was able to see through Ivan's lies, it would probably be her. He hoped that she would be too concerned by her son's amnesia to notice if Ivan and the things that he said didn't seem quite right.

Chenguang came back into the living room carrying a tray of cupcakes and set them down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"Would you like a drink? There's tea, coffee, orange juice, milk…" she said.

"I'm not thirsty, but thanks for asking," said Ivan.

"I guess I could go for some juice," said Yao.

"Alright, I'll be back in a moment," said Chenguang, going back into the kitchen.

A moment later, she returned with a glass of orange juice, which she handed to Yao before sitting down on an armchair across the table from the sofa.

"So, Yao, how are you handling the memory loss? It must be so strange for you," she asked.

"I'm doing quite well, actually. I had my first appointment with the psychiatrist today, and even though I didn't actually remember anything, he was pretty helpful," said Yao.

"Well, I'm glad you're doing well despite everything," said Chenguang, "what about you, Ivan? Are you coping with Yao's memory loss?"

"I'm doing alright. Our relationship has become a bit strange, since I remember it and he doesn't, but it's nice to be able to win him over by taking him out on dates like normal couple. We never got to do that before since we had to hide our relationship from everyone," said Ivan.

"It's good that you're both making the best out of a bad situation. I'm glad that my little Yao Yao found someone so sweet and kind," said Chenguang.

"Well, I love your little Yao Yao, and I would do anything for him," said Ivan.

"Yao Yao appreciates your kindness, but isn't too fond of his new nickname," said Yao.

"You never liked being called Yao Yao. Well, not when you got older than about three or four," said Chenguang.

"I think I can understand why," said Yao.

"Do you think that looking through photo albums would help? Not just for helping you get your memories back, but so you can understand who you are," said Chenguang.

"That sounds like a good idea," said Yao.

"Alright, I'll just grab some photo albums from upstairs. Be right back," Chenguang said as she left the room.

"She seems very nice," said Ivan, "I'm glad that your mother is such a supportive person."

"I'm glad of that too. She seems to like you, which is good," said Yao.

"It is," said Ivan, kissing Yao on the forehead.

"I was worried when you said that we had been hiding our relationship from people. I thought it meant that most of the people that we knew were the sort of people who would disapprove of that sort of thing, but so far nobody has been like that," said Yao.

"I'm glad of that. You have enough to deal with already because of your memory loss; you shouldn't have to worry about people thinking badly of you because you're with me," said Ivan.

"Nobody should," said Yao, resting his head on Ivan's shoulder, "I like you, and what we do is no one else's business."

"I found these upstairs," said Chenguang, placing a stack of photo albums on the coffee table.

"Wow, you have a lot of photo albums," said Yao.

"You were my first baby, I wanted to take a lot of pictures of you," said Chenguang, sitting down on the sofa beside Yao, "I couldn't find the first album of you when you were tiny, but I think these will be okay."

"I'm sure they will be," said Yao, eyeing the sizable stack of albums.

Chenguang picked up the photo album from the top of the pile, opened it and put it down on Yao's lap so everyone could see.

The first page showed several photos of a young child, somewhere between the ages of one and two. Even as a toddler, Yao was instantly recognizable, with his long hair and big eyes that weren't quite brown but weren't quite gold.

"You were so cute," said Chenguang.

"He still is," said Ivan.

Yao rolled his eyes.

"Is that my father?" he asked, pointing at a picture of baby Yao, a very young looking Chenguang and a man smoking a cigarette.

"Yes, that's him. I hated that he smoked around you — it's such a harmful thing to do, especially around a baby. I would have gotten rid of that photo a long time ago if you didn't look so precious," said Chenguang.

Ivan noticed that although a scowl appeared on her face when she spoke about Yao's father and his smoking, when she started talking about baby Yao, her expression softened. It was obvious that she adored her son, and Ivan was glad that him being Yao's boyfriend hadn't changed that. He had no idea how his own parents would have reacted to him being in love with another man, but he hoped that they would have been as supportive as Yao's mother.

"What was my father like? Kiku told me that you divorced him because he wouldn't leave China with you, but what was he _like_? Was he a good father? Did he like me?" asked Yao.

"Of course he liked you, Yao! And yes, he was a good father for the most part. He wanted more than anything for you to succeed in life, but his definition of success was quite different from mine. He wanted you to get the best grades and the best job that paid the most money. I just wanted you to do whatever made you happy," said Chenguang.

"Does he know about the memory loss? Does he know about Ivan?" asked Yao.

"No, I don't keep in contact with him. When you still lived at home he would often call to speak to you and see how you were doing, but I don't know if he still does that," said Chenguang.

"I guess if he does call, I can tell him then," said Yao.

"Of course, and I'm sure he will call," said Chenguang.

"I hope," said Yao, reaching forward to turn the page.

* * *

><p>Yao, Ivan and Chenguang spent quite some time going through the photo albums. Chenguang told her son and his boyfriend stories about Yao's early life as they looked at the photographs, and he gradually learned more and more about himself. What he did not know, however, was that Ivan — who barely knew more about Yao's pre-amnesia life than Yao himself did — was also learning a great deal of new information about Yao.<p>

The front door slammed, and a few seconds later a teenage girl ran into the living room. She was dressed almost entirely in pink and had flower hairclips in her long, dark hair.

"I'm home! Xiang went into town to hang with his friends, though," she said.

"Hello Mei. Yao is here," said Chenguang.

"Oh, right, hey Yao. Are you okay? I heard about your memory thing, and your boyfriend. Is this him?" asked Mei.

Yao nodded. "Yes, this is my boyfriend Ivan. And I'm doing well. You're my sister, right?"

"Yeah. It's so weird that you don't remember me," said Mei.

"It feels strange for me that all of these people who I don't recall ever meeting know me," said Yao.

"It's a difficult thing, not something that most families have to deal with," said Chenguang.

"But Yao is coping very well," said Ivan.

"I am. Gilbert — he's my psychiatrist — told me that I'm coping with it a lot better than most people do. I think it's because everyone's been so good about it, especially Ivan," said Yao.

"But isn't it weird having a boyfriend who has known you for ages when you can't remember him?" asked Mei.

"It is a little strange, but not in a bad way. I'm glad that I have Ivan," said Yao.

He was — Ivan was always there for him. He had moved in with him even though living with an amnesiac who barely knew who you were could hardly be easy, and he had given their relationship a second chance. Even though Yao, through no fault of his own, had stopped loving Ivan, Ivan had never stopped loving him. Yao didn't feel that way about Ivan, not yet anyway, but he somehow knew that eventually he would, that whatever he felt now would eventually blossom into love, whether he regained his memories or not.

"What's with that look?" asked Mei.

"What look?" asked Yao.

"You looked like you were thinking about something really important," said Mei.

"I—"

"If it's not the sort of thing that you should say in front of her," said Mei as she gestured toward Chenguang, "then you should tell me later anyway. I have to go get ready for work now, though. See you!"

With that, she left the room and her footsteps could be heard going up the stairs.

"What sort of thoughts were you having, Yao?" asked Ivan.

"Perfectly decent ones, I don't know what Mei was on about," Yao said defensively. He had no idea how his sister had misunderstood his expression so badly.

"How old is Mei?" asked Yao, changing the subject.

"She's eighteen, a senior at high school. She's got an after school job at a record store in the city. I'll have to drive her there, actually, but if you want you two can just stay here until I get back," said Chenguang.

"We might actually go, if you don't mind," said Yao.

"Oh, of course. Do you want me to give you some cupcakes to take home?" asked Chenguang.

"Sure, if you have any to spare," said Yao.

"I'll go grab some. And Yao, Mei didn't actually think you were having dirty thoughts or anything. The twins just like to mess with you like that. They think you're funny when you get frustrated, and to be honest, you kind of are," said Chenguang, patting Yao on the head before going into the kitchen.

"Oh, great. Perhaps it's for the best that I've been spared the memories of the joys of having siblings," Yao said as he stood up.

"They all love you and look up to you, you know, but they have a funny way of showing it," said Chenguang as she returned with a clear plastic lunchbox filled with cupcakes.

"Thanks," said Yao as Chenguang handed it to him.

"It was a pleasure to meet you," said Ivan, taking Yao's lead and standing up as well.

"It was great to finally meet you too. I hope to see both of you again sometime. Perhaps you can meet the rest of the family at some point," said Chenguang.

"That would be nice," said Yao.

"If you have any more questions about yourself or your childhood or anything, just call me," said Chenguang.

"I will," said Yao as he moved toward the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: I never actually said when I would update this, so technically it isn't late, but somehow it still feels like it is. I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter and that the next one doesn't take as long to write (although at least all of my "took forever to write" chapters are pretty long, and this one is nearly seven thousand words long).<strong> **I introduced a couple of new characters this chapter, and I'll introduce a couple more in future chapters, but the story will continue to focus on Yao and Ivan. Just in case anyone was wondering, "Lili" is supposed to be Liechtenstein — she doesn't have an official human name, but that's one that a lot of people use.** **As always, I'm grateful for all of the reviews, favorites and story alerts that I got since the last chapter. Knowing that people like this story and want to read more makes me really motivated to continue it, so thanks for that.** **Oh, and just for anyone who isn't quite sure, as I was asked about this, the story is set in the USA. It seemed to be the most logical place to set the story in since it's a setting that many people are familiar with (compared to, say, the country where I live).**


	7. Losing a Whole Year

**Author's note:**

**Short chapter is short, but on the bright side, this is the quickest update I've ever done for _One Little Lie_.**

* * *

><p>Ivan loved waking up next to Yao, and today was no exception. During the night Yao had moved so that he was leaning against Ivan, so close that he could feel his heart beating.<p>

Neither of them had remembered to close the curtains last night, and the sunlight was streaming into the room.

"You're so beautiful," whispered Ivan, gently touching Yao's cheek, "you're so amazing and I love you so much."

Yao didn't wake or stir, and Ivan slipped out of bed. He wanted to have a shower, and then perhaps he would make breakfast for Yao. He had done so on Monday morning, but the next two days Yao had woken before him and made his own breakfast.

"Get back into bed," said a sleepy voice from behind Ivan as he reached for the towel.

"I was going to make breakfast for you," said Ivan.

"But I just want to lay here with you and we can kiss and cuddle and chat," said Yao.

"I couldn't say no to that," said Ivan, climbing into bed.

He kissed Yao, moving his lips from the smaller man's forehead to his cheek to his lips. Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan and kissed him back as Ivan opened his mouth and felt Yao's tongue slip inside. The Russian placed his hands on the Chinese man's slender waist and moved so that Yao was on top of him.

Yao, now straddling Ivan, broke the kiss and gently placed his hand on his boyfriend's, which was still resting on his waist.

"It seems so strange that to me it's as if we've known each other for less than a week, and yet we're already in my bed and I'm on top of you," said Yao.

Ivan grinned.

"You make it sound as if what we're doing as far more intimate than it really is," said Ivan.

"Still, saying it out loud makes it seem as if we're moving too fast, but it doesn't feel that way at all, at least not to me," said Yao.

"It doesn't feel like that to me either," said Ivan.

It was true; then again, having sex with Yao on the day they met didn't seem like moving too fast to him either.

"You wouldn't, you were already my boyfriend before all of this," said Yao.

"True," said Ivan, his hand trailing down Yao's hip to rest on his bare thigh. Yao had slept in his panda boxers and a Hello Kitty t-shirt, and Ivan had considered how easy it would be to remove them — he would love to take Yao's shirt off and get a good look at his beautiful figure, to roughly pull those shorts down and expose Yao's most sensitive area to his hungry eyes.

Yao repositioned himself so that he was lying next to Ivan instead of sitting on top of him.

"I could spend the whole day here with you," he said.

"That sounds nice. We should just stay in bed all day," said Ivan.

"Sounds good to me," said Yao, burying his face into the pillow.

Too warm under the thick quilt, he kicked it off and turned to Ivan.

"Tell me about how we met," he said.

"We met at a bar a little over a year ago. You noticed that I was alone and approached me, and we got talking. We were going to go somewhere to get something to eat, but it was late and the place I had in mind was closed, so you invited me back to your place for something to eat," said Ivan.

"Evidently I had something else in mind," said Yao.

"No, I don't think you did. I was the one who had been entertaining devious thoughts of seducing you all night," said Ivan.

"Well, I'm glad you did. I don't know how I'd deal with this amnesia if I didn't have you here," said Yao.

"You probably wouldn't have it if things had gone differently. I mean, we were going to my place when the accident happened, and if our relationship hadn't happened as it did you probably wouldn't have been there at that exact moment," said Ivan.

"True, but I'm still glad you're here," said Yao.

"I'm glad I'm here too," said Ivan.

When he had first met Yao — it was hard to believe that it hadn't even been a week since they that had happened — he wouldn't have imagined that within such a short period of time he would be living with him and spending each night sleeping next to him. He knew that it sounded awful, but he was happy that things had turned out the way that they had. The car crash and Yao's amnesia had created a perfect opportunity to be together. Sure, they had known each other beforehand, and although they had promised to keep in touch and maybe their night together would have turned into something more, but there was also a chance it would have just been a one time thing and that their lives would continue as they had before they met each other. Either way, Ivan doubted that he would have been back in Yao's bed so soon.

"I wonder what we'd be doing right now if the crash hadn't happened," said Yao.

"You'd be at work," said Ivan.

"And where would you be?" asked Yao.

_Alone._

"Here, maybe. You asked me to move in with you the night before, so I probably would have done so by now," said Ivan.

"You don't have a job?" asked Yao.

"No, not at the moment," said Ivan.

"So I'd go to work, and you'd stay at home. What would you do all day?" asked Yao.

"I don't know, I didn't actually live here before," said Ivan.

"True, but it's an amusing thought. What do stay-at-home housewives do?" asked Yao.

"Do I look like a housewife to you?" asked Ivan.

Yao laughed.

"Not really, but maybe if you had an apron and a feather duster you would," he said.

Ivan smiled. "So you want to see me in an apron?"

"I never said that," said Yao.

"Do you think an apron would fit over my coat? I don't think it would," said Ivan.

"You don't have to wear your coat over it, though," said Yao, "you don't have to wear anything at all."

He buried his head into the pillow so that Ivan couldn't see the blush that spread across his face.

Ivan smiled. While Yao could no longer remember any sexual experiences he might have had in the past, his mind was far from pure. The way that Yao so readily accepted Ivan's touch and his kisses was proof of that, and so did the things that he said.

Yes, beneath his sweet exterior, Yao was anything but innocent.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" asked Ivan.

"I guess," said Yao, turning to look at Ivan.

Yao was possibly the most beautiful human being that Ivan had ever seen. He was beautiful; he had a pretty face, gorgeous hair and an amazing body. Even under his clothes it was obvious — the shape of his chest under his shirt, his hips under his shorts, and his bare legs. Yao was actually rather short, especially compare to Ivan, but somehow his legs didn't look it at all.

Ivan placed a hand on Yao's thigh, and gazed innocently at the smaller man's face as his fingers crept up his leg.

Yao kissed Ivan on the forehead, his lips lightly brushing the almost-healed cut from the car accident, and laid his head on the Russian's chest.

"Ivan, what if I never get my memory back?" asked Yao.

"If that happens, we can just make new ones," said Ivan, "that's what we're doing now, isn't it?"

"But it's not really fair on you if the first year of us being together doesn't count and you can still remember it," said Yao.

"Well, life isn't really fair. But Yao, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. A year is nothing compared to the time I want to spend with you. Right now, me remembering our year together and you only remembering the past few days seems like a huge difference, but some day if you remember us being together for forty years and I remember forty one, it won't seem like such a huge difference at all," said Ivan.

In a way, Yao's amnesia made it easy for Ivan to say things like that — if Yao knew that Ivan wanted to spend the rest of his life with him after knowing him for less than a week, he would probably think that the Russian was insane. However, now that he had tricked Yao into believing that they had been in love for quite some time, he could tell Yao how he really felt.

"You think we'll be together for that long?" asked Yao.

"I hope so," said Ivan.

But no matter how much he hoped, he knew that it would probably never come true. Yao would eventually find out that Ivan had lied, either through remembering or through something else tipping him off, and although there was a chance that he would forgive him, there was also a chance that he wouldn't.

"I don't want to lose you!" Ivan said, wrapping his arms around Yao and holding the smaller man close against his chest.

Yao, taken aback by the sudden outburst, pulled free of the bigger man's grasp and looked at him, a quizzical expression on his face.

"Why would you lose me?" asked Yao.

"The car accident scared me, Yao. Before you woke up they told me that you'd had a really bad knock to the head and that they thought you could be brain damaged. I was so worried about you — I mean, you could have died in that accident, and if your brain injury had been different, you could have died later on. In a way, your memory loss is a far better outcome than any of the other things that could have happened to you, but it doesn't stop me from thinking about how things could have turned out," said Ivan.

He was becoming so good at telling lies — intricate, believable ones that he thought up a fraction of a second before telling. He put a little bit of truth in his lies — he had been so worried about Yao, and he still thought about it sometimes, but he was worried about losing him for very different reasons.

"It seems like it messed you up more than it did me. Do you want some food? Food always helps make people feel better," said Yao.

"As long as you bring it back here and eat it with me. I still want to spend the whole day here with you," said Ivan.

"Okay. I'll make something nice. I don't remember any recipes but there's a lot of cookbooks in the kitchen," said Yao.

"Okay. I will wait here," said Ivan.

* * *

><p>Yao was standing in the kitchen, poring over a recipe book as he waited for the food to cook. As he set the book down on the kitchen counter, he felt Ivan's arms snaking around his waist and warm breath against his neck.<p>

"It's almost ready," said Yao.

"That's good," said Ivan, kissing Yao's neck.

"Did you come out here for any reason in particular?" asked Yao.

"No, I just wanted to see you," said Ivan.

"That's very sweet. I hope—"

Yao was cut off by the sound of the phone ringing.

"Can you get that? I need to keep an eye on the stove," said Yao.

"The call will probably be for you, but okay," said Ivan, picking up the phone. "Privet!"

There was a pause; Yao couldn't hear the voice on the phone over the quiet simmering of the food on the stove.

"Da, I am Yao's boyfriend."

Another pause.

"He's doing well. If you're calling for him, he's right here so you can speak to him if you want," said Ivan.

Yet another pause, and then Ivan handed the phone to Yao.

"Hello, this is Yao. Who am I speaking to?" he asked.

"This is Francis. You probably don't remember me, but I am a colleague of yours — a friend, really. I just wanted to call to see how you were doing. I'm also interested to hear about this boyfriend of yours that you've been hiding from us all this time," said a French-accented voice.

"I'm doing pretty well. So is Ivan, even though he's finding it a little weird that I don't remember him. But we're good," said Yao.

"That is good. It is so rare these days to find a lover who will stay with you through such difficult times," said Francis.

"Well, Ivan's been really good about it. I'm lucky to have him," said Yao.

"Well, I wish you two the best. Ooh, now I know why you would never let me set you up on a date with any of the people who I thought would suit you," said Francis.

"Yeah, I guess you do," said Yao.

"Anyway, Alfred told me about seeing the two of you earlier in the week and how he told you that you could come to the gathering at my place tomorrow, and I just wanted to let you know that yes, you actually can come, it wasn't just Alfred being, well, _Alfred_ and inviting people to things without asking anyone if it's okay," said Francis.

"Thanks, but I don't know if I will come. I mean, it might be awkward with me not remembering anyone," said Yao.

"Nonsense, you're welcome to come whether you remember us or not. Besides, I know I'm dying to meet this Ivan of yours, and I'm sure everyone else is too. You should come and bring him along with you," said Francis.

"Okay, I'll think about it. I have to go now, but I'll see you tomorrow, maybe," said Yao.

"Alright, Yao. Au revoir!" said Francis.

"Bye," said Yao, hanging up the phone before turning to his almost-but-not-quite overcooked food.

"What are you maybe doing tomorrow?" asked Ivan.

"Francis — that's the guy Alfred mentioned on Monday — is having a party of some sort at his house, and we're both invited. From what I've heard, my friends are looking forward to meeting you," said Yao.

"Do you want to go?" asked Ivan.

"Perhaps," said Yao, "do you?"

"If you want to then I want to," said Ivan.

"Well, I guess we can go," said Yao.

"Yay. I like going places with you, showing the world that we're together," said Ivan.

"Well, you can do just that tomorrow. I have no idea where Francis lives or what time this is happening, but I'm sure that we'll find out before it's time," said Yao.

"Of course. Now, do you need any help with the food?" asked Ivan.

"It's done! I just need a plate," said Yao.

"Did you make any for yourself?" asked Ivan, unsure of whether he should grab one plate or two out of the cupboard.

"Of course," said Yao.

Ivan grabbed two plates, handed them to Yao and headed back to the bedroom.

Yao smiled as he watched Ivan walk away. He was happy; he was going to eat some hopefully delicious food and spend the rest of the day lying in bed with Ivan, who he really, really liked. Losing his memories didn't change the fact that his life was actually pretty good, and it didn't stop him from being happy.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**Again, sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but I hope the quick update makes up for it. Hopefully the next chapter will be quick as well as longer and more eventful.**


	8. Beat on the Brat

Ivan looked at his reflection in the mirror at the back of the frozen food cabinet. Yao was standing next to him, staring intently at a block of cheese. He liked the way that they looked together — the way that Yao stood so close to him, their hands almost touching. They looked like a proper couple, and it would be hard to look at them without realizing that they were together.

"Do you want that cheese?" asked Ivan.

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know. If we're getting this variety pack of crackers, do you think we should get a lot of different cheeses? Because if we do then they probably can't be expensive ones like this. What do you think?" asked Yao.

"It's Francis's party, why do _you_ need to spend a fortune on cheese?" asked Ivan.

"It's polite to bring food, and cheese and crackers are a simple snack that everyone can enjoy," said Yao.

"Well, just get a cheese that you think is nice, and if anyone has a problem with it they can just eat plain crackers," said Ivan.

"I guess," said Yao, putting the cheese in the shopping basket.

"Is that everything?" asked Ivan.

"I think so. I mean, even though it's a good idea to bring these, Francis should provide his own food, and I don't think we're running out of anything at home," said Yao.

_At home _sounded nice to Ivan. His own spacious apartment had never been a home, but after only a week of living with Yao, the house that they shared was already deserving of that word.

"I don't think we've run out of anything either," said Ivan.

"Okay, let's go," said Yao, heading toward the checkout.

Ivan followed him and helped Yao unload the items onto the conveyer belt. The bored-looking teenage girl working at the checkout lazily picked the items up and scanned them as they moved past.

"That'll be eleven dollars forty," she said.

Yao reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Ivan stopped him.

"I'll pay," he said.

"You've been paying for everything," said Yao.

"That's because I have money," said Ivan, handing the girl a twenty dollar note.

"Do you want a receipt?" asked the girl.

"No," said Yao as the girl handed him the plastic bag of items.

As they walked outside, Ivan thought about how Yao hadn't asked him why he had money — he'd even mentioned that he didn't have a job. He supposed that Yao had a lot in his mind already and hadn't given any thought to it.

"Do you want to go somewhere before we go home — a café or something? I'll pay," said Yao.

"That sounds nice," said Ivan.

"Cool," said Yao as they reached the car, "should we drive or walk?"

"We could walk. It's nice outside," said Ivan.

"It is," said Yao, setting the shopping bag down on the back seat and shutting the door.

"I know a nice place a few blocks from here. They sell cakes and slices and things," said Ivan.

"Sounds good. I could really go for something sweet right now," said Yao.

He took Ivan's hand and they began walking down the street.

"I like this," he said.

"You like what?" asked Ivan.

"Being with you. Doing things like this," said Yao.

"I also like that. I was worried that you not remembering me would make things awkward between us, but it hasn't, and I'm glad of that," said Ivan.

"So am I," said Yao.

Ivan stopped to place a soft kiss on Yao's forehead. He watched as the smaller man's cheeks turned an irresistible shade of pink — Ivan loved how Yao looked when he blushed. Even though when they were alone Yao was actually quite amorous, in public even a chaste kiss made him go red.

"Faggots!" yelled a voice from behind Ivan.

He turned around and found that the culprit was a teenage boy wearing a baseball cap who was leaning against a shop window. He looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, and when he saw that Ivan was looking at him, he ducked into the alleyway next to the building that he was leaning on.

Ivan ran after the boy, catching up to him within seconds and slamming him against the alley wall.

"Do you want to say that to my face?" he asked. Although he hadn't raised his voice, it was obvious that he was furious — his quiet rage was probably more terrifying than if he had been screaming in anger.

"Yeah, I do. You and your fag boyfriend are disgusting, and—"

The boy's sentence was cut short when Ivan's fist collided with his face.

"Ivan, don't!"

The Russian felt Yao's arms around his waist as the smaller man pulled him away from the teenager. Despite his size and appearance, Yao was very strong.

"Yeah, _Ivan_, listen to your queer boyfriend. At least he knows not to fucking mess with me, even though he looks like a pansy who probably takes it up the ass," said the boy.

Yao had to hold Ivan back to keep him from lunging at the teenager. Realizing that Yao wasn't going to let him do anything to the boy, Ivan stopped struggling, and Yao released his hold before stepping forward to approach the youth.

"Don't think for a minute that I give a crap about you. The only reason that I stopped Ivan is because if a grown man were to beat up a teenage boy, he would get himself in a great deal of trouble, even if the teenager in question was a rude ass of a child who deserved it," said Yao.

Even though he was older than the boy by about a decade, the kid was tall enough to be able to look down on Yao, the look on his face a mixture of anger and disgust.

The boy reached forward — perhaps to grab Yao, perhaps to hit him, perhaps just to push him away so he could flee — but before he could do whatever it was he was trying to do, Yao brought his knee up and slammed it into the teen's groin. Yao didn't say a word as he turned and walked away, taking Ivan's hand as he made his way out of the alley.

* * *

><p>"Ivan, are you okay?" Yao asked, looking across the table at his silent, miserable-looking boyfriend.<p>

Ivan nodded, taking another half-hearted bite out of his cake.

Yao sighed.

"You haven't said a word since we got here. Please don't let him ruin your day — he doesn't deserve that," he said.

Ivan nodded again, but didn't look any less forlorn.

"If you're worried about getting in trouble for hitting him, I don't think you need to be. Considering what he thinks of us, I doubt he'll go around telling people about what we did to him," said Yao.

"It's not that, Yao," said Ivan.

"It was the things he said, wasn't it? Don't let him get to you. I hate seeing you so sad," said Yao.

"It's not just that. Just thinking about the horrible things he said makes me feel like shit, but I'm more upset that you saw me like that," said Ivan.

"You don't have to feel bad that I'm seeing you upset, Ivan. You can cry if you want to, if it helps, I won't think any less of you," said Yao, placing his hand on top of Ivan's.

"I don't mind you seeing me sad, it's that you saw me angry. I lost control and I hit that kid, and I'm not even sorry because he deserved it, but I didn't want you to see me at my worst — and that wasn't even my worst, because you held me back," said Ivan.

"I don't think badly of you because of that," said Yao.

"But I was like that all the time in Russia, and the only reason I don't do that sort of thing here is because people don't piss me off as much — I haven't become a better person!" said Ivan.

"Ivan, you're not a bad person—"

"I am! I hurt people and I know that it's wrong but I do it anyway!" said Ivan.

"Ivan—"

"You should be scared of me! I'm a terrible person, Yao!" said Ivan.

"Ivan, listen to me. You hurt people who make you angry, right? But did you ever hurt your sisters?" asked Yao.

Ivan shook his head. "Never. I would never do anything to harm them."

"But they must have annoyed you sometimes? I'm sure that it some point they must have made you angry — siblings never get along all of the time," said Yao.

"Sometimes, but… they're still my family! I wouldn't hurt them, I'm supposed to protect them!" said Ivan.

"Right, you never hurt them, even if they made you angry, because they're your family and you love them," said Yao.

Ivan nodded.

"And you love me, right?" asked Yao.

Ivan nodded. "I do, so much."

"And you don't hurt people you love, even if they make you angry. So even if I made you angry, you would never hurt me, right?" asked Yao.

"Not ever," said Ivan.

"So there's really no reason for me to be scared of you," said Yao.

"I guess not," said Ivan.

"You're a good person, Ivan. You've been so good to me, and I can't think of you as anything but a kind, loving man — the kind of man that I want to be with," said Yao.

"Thank you," said Ivan, gently squeezing Yao's hand.

Until now, he had seen Yao as someone soft and delicate who he needed to protect, but the smaller man was actually very strong, both mentally and physically. That was how he had dealt with his memory loss — it took a strong, resilient person to stay so positive despite what had happened.

"I'm going to forget about him," said Ivan.

"The boy from before?" asked Yao.

"Yes. He's just one person, he shouldn't bother me. Also, I hit him in the face, so it's not like he didn't get punished," said Ivan.

"You probably shouldn't have done that, though," said Yao.

"Says the man who hit this child in the balls with his knee," countered Ivan.

Yao smiled. "I thought you'd forgotten about that. But I probably shouldn't have done that either. I guess you're not the only one who doesn't think about what they're doing when they're angry," he said.

Ivan finished up his cake and noticed that Yao was already finished — he'd probably been done for quite some time.

"Should we go?" asked Ivan.

"Okay," said Yao, getting up from where he was sitting.

He took Ivan's hand and together they walked out of the café. Outside, the skies has become cloudy and a cool breeze had started blowing. Ivan rearranged his scarf so it was covering his chin and pulled his coat sleeve down over the hand that wasn't holding Yao's. He didn't wear his gloves any more because they stopped him from properly touching Yao — holding his hand, caressing his face as they kissed, holding him close as they slept.

"You really hate the cold, don't you?" asked Yao, noticing Ivan rearranging his clothing.

"Yes, but I have you to warm me up, so it's okay," said Ivan.

Yao smiled. Ivan loved Yao's smile, especially when the smaller man was smiling because of him.

"Well, when we get home, we can curl up on the sofa together and I'll warm you up," said Yao.

"I'd like that. Let's hope we get home without incident," said Ivan.

"If you're worried about running into that boy again then we can walk back to the car a different way. I doubt he'll still be there, though," said Yao.

"I doubt it too," said Ivan.

"Well, it seems senseless to go out of our way to avoid him, then. There's no point in being afraid of him anyway; he's just some stupid kid," said Yao.

"Exactly," said Ivan.

* * *

><p>Yao sat down on the sofa, sinking comfortably into the soft cushions and resting his head on Ivan's shoulder. They had been sitting together and watching television for about half an hour, but Yao had gotten up to take a phone call.<p>

"That was Francis. He said that we can come over to his place at about half past seven, and he gave me the address," said Yao, showing Ivan the post-it note with _48 Adams Lane_ written on it in Yao's careful handwriting.

Ivan took the note and stuck it to Yao's forehead.

"Ivan, I was wondering… have you told your sisters about me?" asked Yao.

Ivan shook his head.

"Are you worried about what they'll think?" asked Yao.

"Anastasiya won't mind, she'll be happy that I've found someone that I love, but Natalia…" Ivan trailed off.

"What will Natalia think?" Yao asked quietly.

"If she dislikes you, which she probably will, it won't have anything to do with the fact that you're a man, she'd feel the same way if I fell in love with a girl," said Ivan.

"But how would she feel? You're confusing me," said Yao.

"Natalia is… she's in love with me," said Ivan.

"She… what? She loves you like family? Or…"

"No, she is _in love _with me. Sort of like how I love you, but it's creepy because she's my sister and I don't feel the same way about her but she just won't give up," said Ivan.

"That's… very unfortunate," said Yao.

"I mean, I do love her, because she's my little sister, but I can't see her as anything more than family! I don't want to see her as anything more!" said Ivan.

"What does she do?" asked Yao, sounding very concerned.

"Don't worry, she doesn't do anything physically inappropriate, she just says stuff about how she wants to marry me how our souls are going to become one or something like that. It's still really weird and scary, but at least she doesn't… _do_ anything," said Ivan.

"Well, I suppose that's better than the alternative," said Yao, taking the post-it note off of his head and sticking it on Ivan's coat.

"Of course. And she's not a bad person, she's just… a strange, strange girl," said Ivan.

Yao gazed at Ivan, lifting his hand up to the Russian's lips and slowly tracing them with his finger. Ivan placed his hand on the smaller man's back, just above his waist, and pulled him closer. He licked his lips, his tongue wetting Yao's finger.

Without speaking, they repositioned themselves so that Yao was lying on his back and Ivan was on top of him. Yao wrapped his arms around the Russian, relishing in the look that Ivan was giving him and the weight of the bigger man's body on top of him. He loved feeling that weight, feeling Ivan's body pressed against his. Ivan kissed him tenderly, his tongue darting inside the smaller man's mouth as the hand that wasn't on his lover's waist fumbled with Yao's shirt and undid the top few buttons.

Ivan's kisses moved from Yao's lips down to his neck and then his collarbone. Yao laid his head on the couch cushion as Ivan continued kissing him, unbuttoning the long-haired man's shirt and exposing more of his chest. Ivan's lips brushed against Yao's nipple, the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive nub causing Yao to whimper with pleasure. Ivan smiled at the sound and set about lightly teasing the bud between his teeth. Yao moaned softly and pressed his hips up against Ivan's body as he placed a hand on the back of the bigger man's head in encouragement.

The sound of the telephone ringing interrupted the heated scene.

"Shall I answer it?" Ivan asked, looking up for a moment.

Yao nodded, gazing at Ivan through half-lidded eyes.

Ivan reluctantly got up, walked the short distance to the kitchen and answered the phone.

"Privet, this is Ivan," he said into the receiver.

"Ah, hello Ivan. This is Kiku — we met when Yao was in the hospital. I am calling to see if he is any better."

Ivan glanced through the doorway at Yao — who was lying on the sofa, his shirt unbuttoned, his cheeks pink and his expression sultry — and knew that he was in no position to talk to his brother.

"He's actually busy at the moment," said Ivan.

"I see. Should I call back at a more suitable time?" asked Kiku.

"I'll get him to call you when he's less busy. Though just so you know, he's doing well but hasn't gotten any memories back," said Ivan.

"Okay. I will let you get back to whatever it is you were doing. Goodbye," said Kiku.

"Goodbye!" said Ivan.

He hung the phone up and returned to the living room.

"That was Kiku. I told him that you were busy because you don't really look like you're in any position to talk," said Ivan.

"Good, it would be awkward talking to anyone when I'm so…" Yao trailed off, trying to think of the right word.

"Aroused?" suggested Ivan.

Yao blushed. "Yeah, that," he agreed, looking away as he pulled himself up into a sitting position.

"It's okay," Ivan said as he sat down beside Yao, "I've seen you like this before."

"Of course," said Yao.

Their eyes met, and a moment later, they both leaned forward for a kiss. It was soft and tender, a far cry from the lustful passion that they had been engaging in not so long ago.

"I think I'm going to call Kiku now," said Yao as he broke away from Ivan.

"Yao, are you mad at me?" asked Ivan.

"No, why would I be?" asked Yao.

"I don't know, you just seem a little upset. I thought that maybe you thought that we shouldn't have done what we just did," said Ivan.

"No, I… this relationship is confusing, but I really like you, and I think we can make it work. So I don't want to fuck you just because I'm horny, I want it to be special. And that probably sounds stupid and clichéd, especially since we've probably done it a hundred times already, but I'd like it to be perfect," said Yao.

"Of course," said Ivan, "I understand. I can wait. For you, I could wait forever."

"You don't need to wait forever," said Yao, buttoning up his shirt, "but thanks anyway."

* * *

><p>It was just after eight o'clock, and Yao and Ivan were standing on the doorstep of the address that Francis had given Yao over the phone. Yao was clutching the rather large box of crackers to his chest, while Ivan was awkwardly holding a block of cheese in one hand.<p>

"Yao," Ivan said quietly, "earlier when you said that you wanted our first time to be perfect, was it because you thought that I was trying to seduce you when we were on the sofa so I could screw you then and there?"

"No, it's just that you know exactly how to get me into a state like that, and I—"

Yao was interrupted by front door swinging open.

"Yao, you are here! Ah, and this must be your boyfriend — it is a pleasure to meet you in person," said the man standing in the doorway. He had blonde hair that reached his shoulders and spoke with a prominent French accent — Yao recognised the voice from his telephone conversation with Francis.

"Sorry that we're late, I sort of underestimated how long it would take to wash my hair. But we brought food!" said Yao, holding up the box of crackers.

"Ah, it doesn't matter that you're late, just that you're here now," said Francis, "please, do come in."

Yao followed Francis into the house and found himself in a modern, expensively-furnished living room. There was a flat screen television on one wall, playing a TV show that was barely audible over the sound of the music coming out of the sleek, modern stereo.

"Your house is beautiful. Where should I put the food?" asked Yao.

"I will put your food in the kitchen," said Francis, taking the box of crackers and taking it into another room.

Instead of following him, Yao decided to settle down in the living room — he spotted Alfred sitting on one of the designer sofas, along with two other young men that he didn't recognise. He sat down on the other sofa as there wasn't enough room for both him _and _Ivan on the first. The other two were caught up in some sort of conversation, but Alfred noticed the newcomers.

"Yao! Ivan! You made it! I was starting to think you two weren't going to show up. Guys, guys! Yao's here, and he brought his boyfriend," said Alfred.

The other two looked up, and Yao got a better look at them — they were both blonde, but one of them had striking green eyes and extremely thick eyebrows, while the other looked a great deal like Alfred, but with slightly longer hair and different coloured eyes.

"Yao, it's a pleasure to see you. Have you thought any more about coming back to work? Sorry to be so insistent about it," said the green-eyed man, and Yao instantly recognised the voice as being that of Arthur Kirkland, whom he had spoken to over the phone earlier in the week.

"I haven't really thought about it, but perhaps we can talk about it later tonight," said Yao.

"Arthur, don't bug him about it, just let things happen as they happen," said Alfred.

Arthur narrowed furrowed his impressive brows at Alfred. "If anyone has the right to criticise other for bugging people, it is certainly not you," he said.

"Whatever," said Alfred, turning back to Yao, "that's Arthur, although I guess you've already talked to him, and this—" he gestured at the other man "—is Matthew."

"Well, I'm Yao," said Yao.

"We know that," said Arthur.

"Oh, right," said Yao, realising this was not their first time meeting him, "I forgot about that. But aside from Alfred, you probably wouldn't know Ivan, right?"

"I spoke to him on the telephone yesterday," said Francis, coming back into the room and sitting down on the sofa next to Ivan.

"Well, for everyone else, this is Ivan. He is my boyfriend," said Yao, reaching for Ivan's hand only to find that he was still holding the cheese.

He gave the Russian a quizzical look.

"Were you planning on carrying this around all night?" he asked.

"No, I'll put it in the kitchen. It's over here, right?" asked Ivan, gesturing towards an open doorway.

"Oui," said Francis, stretching out on the sofa to fill the space that Ivan had left, resting his head rather close to Yao's lap.

"He seems like an interesting bloke," said Arthur, "Ivan, I mean, not Francis. Francis is just bloody weird."

"Ivan seems pretty cool. He bought me food the other day, and I didn't have to pay him back," said Alfred.

"Ivan is lovely," said Yao, "I'm so lucky to have him."

"It's good that you've found someone who makes you happy," said Francis.

"It is, but I'm a little confused as to why you didn't tell us about him beforehand," said Arthur.

"Well, obviously I can't actually remember it myself, but Ivan told me that it was because we were worried about what people would think, since we're both guys," said Yao.

"But we wouldn't have minded — I mean, we're alright with Francis and he's attracted to _everyone_," said Arthur.

"I understand that I don't have to worry about what you guys think, or my family, but not everyone is that kind. I mean, today Ivan and I were in town and this kid started yelling stuff at us, and even though I tried to ignore him, I could tell it really hurt Ivan, and that's what got to me," said Yao.

"That sucks. People need to learn not to be assholes," said Alfred.

"Why do people need to learn not to be assholes?" asked Ivan, coming back into the room and sitting precariously on the armrest of the sofa.

"Yao was just telling us about how you ran into that wanker in town today," said Arthur.

"Ah, yes. He was stupid, he doesn't matter at all," said Ivan.

"I will move so you can sit next to Yao again," said Francis, sitting up and moving so that there was room for Ivan on the sofa beside him.

Ivan sat down between Yao and Francis and put his arm around Yao's shoulders.

Yao was aware that all eyes were on him and Ivan — his friends were obviously interested in this boyfriend that Yao had been hiding from them for over a year, and they were probably also interested in Yao's own amnesia. Nevertheless, he felt a little awkward, and so tried changing the subject.

"Alfred, Matthew, are you two related? I couldn't help but notice that you look very similar," said Yao.

"Nope, though lots of people seem to think we're brothers or something," said Alfred.

"Either that or they think that we're the same person — I have been mistaken for Alfred so many times," said Matthew.

Despite his physical similarity to the loud and excitable American, Matthew seemed polite and soft spoken.

"How strange," said Yao.

"I know, right? It's such a crazy coincidence. Completely unrelated to that, I'm kinda hungry," said Alfred.

"You're always hungry, but I too could go for some food right now," said Arthur.

"Well, the dessert that I made needs to be chilled for a while longer, but we could have the cheese and crackers that Yao and Ivan brought. In fact, I think I may have some cheeses of my own as well, so we can have quite a variety," Francis said as he got to his feet.

"Cool. You should totally get me a soda while you're at it," said Alfred.

"Fine, does anyone else want a drink?" asked Francis.

"I wouldn't mind a cup of tea, though I'd rather make it myself," said Arthur.

"You are not allowed in my kitchen! Do you not recall what happened last time I let you in there?" asked Francis, staring pointedly at the Brit.

"That was _once_, and it wasn't even my fault! You wouldn't let me use your stove even though you knew that I'm not too good with the microwave," said Arthur.

"How can you be not good with a microwave? It is simple, you just press the buttons," said Ivan.

"That's exactly what I said! It shouldn't be possible to screw up a microwaving something, but Arthur has a special talent for that sort of thing. So if you want tea, I will make it for you," said Francis.

"But isn't tea the one thing that Arthur can actually make well?" asked Alfred.

"I can make other things, but if you're going to be that stubborn, Francis, then you can make it yourself," said Arthur.

"Does anyone else want a drink?" asked Francis.

"If you're already making tea, I wouldn't mind a cup," said Yao.

"I would like vodka, if you have any," said Ivan.

"I'll see of I have some. Matthew, do you want anything?" asked Francis.

"No, I'm fine," Matthew replied quietly.

"I will be right back, then," said Francis, returning to the kitchen.

"Does Francis have a particularly complicated microwave?" asked Yao.

"Nope, Arthur really is that bad," said Alfred.

"You're lucky to have been spared the traumatic memories," said Matthew.

"I am _not_ that bad — or bad at all for that matter," said Arthur.

When Arthur wasn't looking, Alfred nodded and mouthed _he really is_ at Yao.

"Dinner is served, mes amis," said Francis, coming back into the room and gracefully placing a large plate of crackers, some knives and several cheeses — including Yao's — on the table.

"Your drinks will arrive shortly," he added as he left once more.

"Thanks for bringing the crackers, guys," said Alfred, grabbing a knife and cutting himself a thick slice of a pale, creamy-looking cheese and placing it on one of the crackers.

"It seemed like the right sort of thing to bring. I mean, I don't really know what you guys like, apart from Alfred, but I get the impression that he's not too fussy when it comes to food…" said Yao.

"That is an understatement," said Arthur.

"Hey, I do have standards, you know. Like, I won't eat anything if Arthur made it, or if it's been on the ground for more than twenty seconds… although if it's a really clean looking floor and it takes me a little too long to pick it up, I suppose I could bend that rule a little…" said Alfred.

"Well, I'm glad you all like the crackers," said Yao.

"They're nice. You should have one," said Ivan, holding a cracker up to Yao's mouth.

Yao took a bite of the cheese-covered cracker, spent a moment chewing it, and then nodded.

"You're right, it is really good," he said once he had swallowed, "and the cheese is really nice too. Is it the one we brought?"

"No, it's one of Francis's," said Ivan, looking at the label on the packet, "creamy delicious feta, apparently."

"Well, it is rather delicious," said Yao, cutting himself another slice.

"Ewww, this one's got mould growing on it. Jeez, Francis, how old is this thing?" asked Alfred, holding one of the cheeses unto show Francis as the Frenchman came back into the room.

"It's supposed to be like that, you idiot," said Francis, handing Alfred a can of coke.

He set two cups of tea down on the coffee table, as well as a vodka bottle and a glass.

"Are you sure you want just vodka, Ivan? It would probably taste a lot nicer if you mixed it with something," said Francis.

"I like it like this," said Ivan, pouring himself a glass.

"If you say so," said Francis, heading back to the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" asked Matthew.

"To check on my cheesecake, and to get myself a drink," said Francis.

"This cheesecake sounds pretty special. Is Francis good at cooking?" asked Yao.

"Yes, very. But so are you, actually," said Matthew.

"Yao is amazing at cooking," said Ivan, gently pressing his lips against Yao's.

"The two of you make such a cute couple," Francis said as he sat down beside them, now holding a glass of wine.

Yao smiled as he sipped his tea. He was glad that his friends seemed to like Ivan. He was glad that he liked his friends and they liked him — he had been a little apprehensive about meeting them, but now he saw that he had noting to worry about. Sure, they were a little strange, and they seemed to bicker a lot, but Alfred had explained to him at the fair that that was just what they did.

Of course, the person that Yao was the happiest about was Ivan. Yao liked the tall Russian man a lot, and was glad of that — it would have been tragic if, despite the fact that Ivan was such a sweet, devoted boyfriend, Yao hadn't been able to return his affections. He didn't quite love Ivan as much as the bigger man loved him, but he was already very fond of him. It was hard not to be — Ivan was so kind and thoughtful, and even though Yao knew that the Russian had a dark side, he had been nothing but lovely to him.

Yao was so caught up in his appreciative thoughts concerning Ivan that he didn't notice that his teacup was slipping out of his hand until it fell onto his lap.

"Shit!" he cursed.

Although Yao was glad that his drink hadn't been scalding hot, the feeling of the warm, wet fabric of his shirt and pants clinging to his skin wasn't very comfortable.

"Are you okay?" asked Ivan.

"What happened?" asked Matthew.

"I spilled tea on myself, but it's okay, it wasn't too hot so it didn't burn me," said Yao.

"I'll help you," said Ivan, pulling a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and trying to wipe the tea from Yao's clothing.

"Thanks," said Yao.

As Ivan carefully wiped at the tea spilled on Yao's upper thigh, his hand accidentally (or perhaps not so accidentally) pressed against Yao's crotch, eliciting a quick, involuntary gasp from the smaller man.

"Actually," said Yao, looking around the room and finding that if anyone had noticed the noise he had just made, they weren't reacting, "I don't think they'll dry that easily, Ivan."

"If you want, you can wash and dry them here," said Francis.

"That would be really nice. Ah… would I be able to borrow some clothes to wear until then?" asked Yao.

"Of course, although if you'd prefer to stand around naked until they're clean and dry, then be my guest," said Francis.

"I'd rather not," said Yao.

"Then I shall help you find something to wear," said Francis.

"Okay," said Yao, getting up and following Francis out of the room, down an empty hallway and into another room.

It was a bedroom, presumably Francis's, but it looked more like a honeymoon suite in an expensive hotel than somewhere that an actual person resided. Most of the furniture was one shade or another of red or pink, and roses seemed to be a recurring motif.

"Your room is very interesting," said Yao.

"It is, isn't it? Now, let me see if I have anything that will suit you," said Francis, opening his wardrobe and looking inside.

"I can wear anything, really. I mean, it'll only be for a few hours until I leave or these clothes are dry," said Yao.

"True," said Francis, "I guess these will do."

He grabbed a few items of clothing from the closet and laid them on the bed before turning to Yao once more.

"Did the tea soak all the way through your pants?" he asked.

"Yes, unfortunately," said Yao.

"Then you will need underwear. Don't worry, I can lend you some," said Francis.

"No, it's okay, I'm fine," said Yao, "I would feel sort of awkward borrowing a pair."

"Nonsense, Yao. Your only other choices are spending the rest of the evening in either damp, tea-stained underwear or none at all, so borrowing some is really the least awkward option," said Francis, rummaging through his chest of drawers.

"I suppose. Thanks for this, Francis," said Yao.

"No problem at all. We are friends, oui? Friends help each other out like this — and since we are such good friends, you should tell me all about Ivan! I'm quite curious," said Francis.

"Okay, what exactly do you want to know? I can't really tell you much since I don't remember much," said Yao.

"That's fine. Anyhow, I am going to be blunt and ask this right away — have the two of you slept together?" asked Francis.

Yao felt that the question was a little invasive coming from someone he barely knew, but then he remembered that although he hardly knew Francis, the Frenchman, like everyone else on his life, had known him for much longer.

"If you just mean sleeping in the same bed, which I doubt you do, then the answer to your question is yes, but if you mean what I think you mean, then no. Well, actually, we have, but it was before, so I don't remember it," said Yao.

"Hmmm," said Francis, "you say you sleep in the same bed?"

"Well, there's only one bedroom and the couch is a little small for someone of Ivan's stature," said Yao.

"How is he coping with your memory loss? How are you coping, for that matter?" asked Francis.

"I'm doing fine, and so is Ivan. He's been very positive and supportive. I mean, for him it's like going back to square one; this whole year of falling in love and making memories is just gone, and it must be so frustrating for him, but he's been so good about it," said Yao. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face when he thought about how lovely Ivan was.

"I can tell that you like him a lot, and I'm happy that this relationship seems to be working out," said Francis, "but tell me, what is he like under that big coat of his?"

"He's really hot," said Yao, his cheeks turning pink as he said it, "he wears bulky winter clothes that make him seem so soft and huggable, which is nice, but underneath he's actually got a very impressive body."

Francis laughed. "Well, good for you. I will leave you to get changed," he said, leaving Yao alone in his bedroom.

Yao unbuttoned his shirt, peeling the warm, wet fabric from his skin and leaving the garment on the bed. He finished undressing and then quickly put on the clothes that Francis had left for him — jeans, a lilac shirt and a button-up vest. They looked expensive and trendy, although they were a little large for Yao — even though Francis wasn't that big himself, not compared to someone like Ivan, he was still quite a bit bigger than the petite Chinese man.

Yao gathered up his clothes and slipped his feet back into his shoes before walking out of the room.

Back in the living room, Francis took the wet clothes from Yao and headed off into another room with them.

"I'll put these in the wash, you sit back down and be careful not to spill anything else," he said.

Yao sat down on the sofa beside Ivan, who took hold of his hand.

"I was just telling your friends about how we met," he said.

"Yao, I never would have pegged you as a one night stand sort of person," said Arthur.

Yao blushed as he realised that the story of how he and Ivan met involved them sleeping together.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing I am, otherwise I wouldn't have a wonderful boyfriend," he said.

Yao gave Ivan a quick kiss on the lips before grabbing a knife from the coffee table and cutting himself a slice of one of the few remaining cheeses — it seemed that his friends had been busy eating while he was gone. Interestingly enough, the blue vein cheese that Alfred had accused of being mouldy was completely untouched.

"We should change the CD that's playing. This one is in, like, French or Belgish or something and I can't understand it," said Alfred.

"Belgish? Really?" asked Arthur.

"Maybe. I mean it would make more sense to be French because Francis is French, but I don't really know," said Alfred.

"Things from Belgium are Belgian, not Belgish. That's not even a real word," said Ivan.

"Exactly, _and_ they speak French in Belgium anyway," said Arthur.

"Well, how was I supposed to know that? Anyway, as I said before, we should change the CD," said Alfred.

"Good idea. I'll go do it," said Arthur, getting up and going over to the stereo.

He turned the music off, reached into his pocket and pulled out an iPod, which he plugged into the stereo. A moment later, music started blaring from the speakers once more.

"Yao," Ivan said as he got up off the sofa, "you should dance with me."

"Sure," said Yao, taking Ivan's hand.

Ivan placed his hands on Yao's hips and the two of them began moving in time with the music. Yao looped his arms around Ivan's neck and smiled at the Russian.

"What are you so happy about?" asked Ivan.

"I have a fantastic boyfriend, and I'm having a really good time. Why wouldn't I be happy?" asked Yao.

"Perhaps because you can't remember anything?" asked Ivan.

"I'm not going to let that get me down. Besides, I don't remember remembering, so it's not like I can be upset about what I lost," said Yao.

"True. So, I make you happy, do I?" asked Ivan, pulling Yao closer and continuing to move to the beat of the music.

"You make me very happy. Do I make you happy?" asked Yao, gazing into the Russian's violet eyes. It was as if the rest of the room and the other people in it had ceased to exist; there was nothing on his mind but Ivan.

"You make me so, so happy, Yao. More than anything else in the world," said Ivan.

He gently kissed Yao's lips, running a hand through the smaller man's ponytail.

"My Yao, you are so perfect, I love you so much," Ivan whispered, so quiet that Yao could barely hear it.

Yao thought that perhaps he wasn't supposed to have heard that. Those three words, I love you, were the ones that he couldn't return, not yet, and Yao had a feeling that perhaps Ivan was trying his hardest not to say them — not because he didn't love Yao, as it was obvious that he did — but because Yao could not say them back.

_It must hurt him to tell me that he loves me when I can't say the same about him_, thought Yao, _either that or he doesn't want me to feel bad about not saying it_.

Yao closed his eyes, laid his head on Ivan's chest and stopped thinking about the confusion and complexities of their relationship. It was good, and they would make it work. Slowly, he started swaying to the song that was playing once more.

* * *

><p>Ivan liked Yao's friends. They were lively and interesting, and he found their disagreements amusing. Although they constantly argued about things and playfully insulted each other, they were being particularly kind to Yao, probably because of his memory loss — they'd want to make a good first impression on him.<p>

Right now, Yao was talking to Arthur about something work related, and Ivan was left to chat with Alfred, who was lying upside down on the sofa beside him, his legs over the back of the couch and his head hanging over the edge of the seat.

"Are you like a communist?" asked Alfred.

"No, I am not," Ivan replied.

"But you're from Soviet Russia, right?" asked Alfred.

"No, I am from the Russian Federation. The Soviet Union has not existed for more than two decades," said Ivan.

"I know _that_, but unless you're a lot younger than you look, you would have been born some time in the mid-to-late eighties, when Russia was still communist. See, I'm not a dumbass, I actually know lots of things about stuff," said Alfred.

"That is true," said Ivan.

"So how old _are_ you?" asked Alfred.

"Twenty-three," said Ivan.

"Whoa, you're a lot younger than I would have thought. Man, Yao is like, nearly twenty seven. I would not have thought that he'd be older than you," said Alfred.

"Yao does not really look his age, does he?" asked Ivan.

"Not really. But neither do I — guess how old I am," said Alfred.

"Twenty four?" asked Ivan.

"Nope," said Alfred.

"Hmmm, well of you say you don't look your age, then… thirty?" asked Ivan.

"Hell no, I'm nineteen," said Alfred.

"Really? You look much older," said Ivan.

"I know, right? It's pretty cool because I—"

Before Alfred could finish his sentence, the lights, the music and even the television that nobody was paying attention to went off.

"What was that?" asked Yao.

"Power cut, I think," said Francis.

"Does anyone have a torch?" asked Matthew.

A moment later, a dull, blue light appeared from a phone in Arthur's hand, illuminating him and Yao but doing little for the rest of the room.

Ivan got up from the sofa and went to sit on the floor next to Yao and the light. Before long, the others had joined them, forming a small circle around the light.

"When's the power gonna come back on?" asked Yao.

"Maybe never. Maybe Francis will have to revert to a pre-Industrial Revolution lifestyle for as long as he lives here," said Arthur.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Francis.

"This is a little like that movie we watched, Yao. Remember when the power went out in the hotel room and they went to ask the manager about it but he was dead? That made me laugh," said Ivan.

"That was so gross. He still had the knife sticking out of his face and everything," said Yao.

"That sounds really freaky," said Alfred, leaning closer to the light.

"Speaking of freaky things happening in hotels, there's this really interesting story I read online," said Arthur.

"Not more of your creepy internet stories. Those scare the hell out of me," said Alfred.

"This one isn't that bad. Basically, what happened was a man went to this hotel, and the receptionist told him to stay away from a certain room. But that night, the man got bored and decided to go check out the room, since it wasn't far from his own and he was a little curious. So, he put his eye up to the keyhole, and inside, he saw a normal looking hotel room, the same as his own, but there was a woman leaning against the wall across from the door. She seemed to be sleeping or something, so the man left. The next morning, he decided to go back to take another look, but when he looked through the keyhole a second time, all he saw was red. So he went downstairs to the lobby to ask the hotel owner why exactly he was to stay away from the room, and the manager said that a family that had been staying in that room had been killed. The man turned to go back to his own room, but as he was walking away, the receptionist told him that there was one more thing — that they all had red eyes," said Arthur.

Although such a story would have seemed harmless and perhaps even silly in the light of day, Ivan noticed that the others were all shocked silent by it, their expressions illuminated by the light coming from Arthur's phone.

"I don't get it," said Alfred.

"What is there to not get?" asked Arthur.

"What do the red eyes have to do with it?" asked Alfred.

Arthur sighed. "It was the red he saw the second time he looked through the keyhole," he said.

"My doctor has red eyes," Yao commented.

"Gilbert? I know him," said Francis.

"If you looked through the keyhole and saw an eye staring back at you, the you would see mostly black regardless of colour because of the pupil," said Ivan.

"See, I told you it didn't make sense!" said Alfred.

"Now that I think about it, that's a terrible plothole. Stories like that stop being scary if you think too hard about them and notice any flaws like that," said Arthur.

"I don't find them scary at all, but I like them because they're interesting and fun," said Ivan.

"You have a weird idea of _fun_," said Alfred.

"Not fun for the people in the stories, fun for me to read, and then to tell people who are easily scared," said Ivan.

"Do you know any good ones?" asked Arthur.

Ivan nodded.

"Go on, tell us one," said Yao.

"Da, I will see if I can remember a good one," said Ivan.

He thought for a moment, trying to think of a story that was scarier and made more sense than Arthur's.

"Okay, this is a good one. A teenage girl is home alone for the night, and she gets a little scared, so she lets her dog sleep under her bed so she won't be alone in her room. Anyway, she sticks her hand under the bed and the dog licks it, as if to reassure her that it is still there. She falls asleep, but before it is morning, she awakes to find that she can hear something dripping — perhaps it is the tap in the bathroom. She doesn't want to get up to turn it off because it's cold and she's still a bit scared, so she puts her hand under the bed, and the dog licks it, so the girl rolls over, tries to ignore the dripping, and goes back to sleep. When she wakes up, it is morning, and she goes into the bathroom to clean her teeth or whatever she does in the morning, but she finds the body of her dog is hanging over the shower curtain railing, a huge pool of blood on the ground as of it had been dripping there all night. Also in blood are these words written on the bathroom mirror: _humans can lick too_," he said.

The six of them sat in silence for a moment, their reactions ranging from Ivan's grin to Arthur's look of intrigue to Alfred's wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression of terror.

"Oh, mon dieu," Francis gasped worriedly.

"What is it? Did you hear something? Is there something outside? Something in the house? Oh my god we're going to die!" exclaimed Alfred, frantically grabbing at the nearest person, who happened to be Arthur.

"Get off me, you tosser," said the Brit.

"We're not going to die, I just realised that if the power is off, then the refrigerator is off too, and I was chilling my cake in there," said Francis, grabbing Arthur's phone and rushing off to the kitchen.

"Oi, give that back! I can't see a damn thing, and that's my bloody phone anyway," grumbled Arthur.

Ivan turned to where he thought Yao was and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

"Are you scared?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

"No," said Yao, "but that was an interesting story."

"Well," said Ivan, leaning forward to whisper in Yao's ear, "if you do get scared, remember you have me to protect you."

Ivan felt Yao's kiss on his cheek, and then the smaller man's arms around his body.

"Since the fridge is no longer working, I suppose we should eat the cake now, and then you can all leave if you want since there isn't much to do here with the power off," said Francis as he came back with the light and a plate of very delicious looking cheesecake.

He handed Arthur back the phone, put the plate down on the table and began cutting the cake into slices.

"There are only six of us, so we can each have a big piece," he said as the others all grabbed a slice, "bon appétit!"

* * *

><p>Yao was fast asleep, laying beside Ivan, when the bedroom light came on and woke him. His house wasn't too far away from Francis's and so it had been affected by the same power outage. He and Ivan had gone to bed in the dark, but one of them must have flicked the light switch on just to check of it was working.<p>

Glancing bleary-eyed at Ivan and finding that the Russian was still asleep, Yao climbed over the man sleeping next to him, stumbled out of bed and across the room to turn off the light. He then climbed back into bed next to Ivan, basking in the larger man's body heat. For someone who was so sensitive to the cold, Ivan was very warm.

Yao felt someone's tongue on his face, gently licking his cheek, and jerked away.

"Ivan, I know it's you," he said, "and I don't scare that easily."

Ivan laughed.

"Why would you think I'm trying to scare you? I'm just being affectionate and showing you that I'm still here," he said.

"Well, if you're still here, then you should warm me up. It's pretty cold tonight and I just got up to turn the light off," said Yao.

"It would be me pleasure," said Ivan, wrapping his arms around Yao and resting his head on the smaller man's chest, "is this better?"

"This is much better," said Yao.

"Goodnight, Yao," Ivan said sleepily.

"Goodnight," said Yao as he drifted back to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**Again, this took a long time, but once more I've outdone myself length-wise, and _this_ is the longest chapter yet.**

**To address the first part of the chapter, I decided that although it's not pleasant to write about, homophobia is a pretty serious issue and not something that I should really ignore, considering the subject matter of the story. Also, since Ivan used it as the reason that he and Yao never told anyone about their relationship, it might seem a little weird if it was never brought up. It also served as an opportunity for me to show Ivan's darker side once more and to show that despite Yao's memory loss leaving him vulnerable and confused, he is certainly not weak or fragile.**

**As for the rest of the chapter, I finally introduced all of Yao's friends/coworkers, who you should be seeing more of as the story progresses. If either Arthur's or Ivan's stories sound a little familiar, it's because they're both urban legends/creepypasta stories — ones that some people claim to be true.**

**Anyway, once again, sorry that this took so long, and huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited and alerted this story since the last chapter. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long as this one did.**


	9. I Never Told You What I Do For a Living

Everything was green. The grass, the canopy of leaves above them, even the shirt Yao was wearing was green, albeit a darker shade than that of the park. Only Ivan in his light brown coat stood out from the world of greenery.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and the two of them had gone for a walk around the neighbourhood and come across a rather large and rather beautiful park, and so they had sat down under a shady tree to admire the scenery.

"It's been a week," said Yao, turning to look at Ivan, who was sitting next to him with his back against the tree.

"A week since the accident?" asked Ivan.

"Yes. To me, we have only known each other for a week. It seems much longer — not that the time has dragged, but what I feel for you is more than what you would expect after such a short time," said Yao.

Ivan had been thinking the same thing — he had expected that it would take a lot longer for him and Yao to do the sorts of things that they did. The kissing, the touching, the nights they spent sleeping in each other's arms; they were all things that people didn't usually do within days of meeting each other. Perhaps it was because Yao believed that they had been together before, but maybe, just maybe, he was falling for Ivan the way that Ivan had fallen for him — a little too fast and a little too soon.

"Maybe we're supposed to be together," said Yao, "you say we met by chance in a bar — just think of all of the things that could have gone slightly different and would have resulted in one or both of us not being there on that night."

"So meeting each other and falling in love was fate?" asked Ivan.

"Maybe it was something like that. Maybe fate brought us together, and it's keeping us together, even after what happened. I mean, it's just as likely that it's not, that it's completely random and it's just luck that things worked out like they did, but it's kind of a nice thought, that you are the one person I'm meant to be with, and I've already found you," said Yao.

"It is a nice idea," said Ivan.

Maybe it was true. Maybe he was supposed to lie to Yao — that was fate's way of keeping them together. It was nice, but unlikely.

"This park is beautiful. I wonder if I've been here before. It would be a shame if it'd been so close to my house all this time and I'd never visited it," said Yao.

"I don't know. You've never been here with me, but perhaps you came here alone or with someone else," said Ivan.

"What did we do? Before, when we couldn't go out and we didn't live together," said Yao.

"I would sometimes spend the night at your place. We would talk and eat and sleep together — in both of the ways that that word could be interpreted — and then the next day, I would go back to my own apartment. It was nice, but not as nice as what we do now. I like spending a lot of time with you, going places with you and showing people that you are mine," said Ivan.

"I am yours, am I?" asked Yao.

"That sounded a little possessive, sorry. You are mine and, if you want me to be, I am yours," said Ivan.

Yao turned to Ivan and smiled. "Of course I want you," he said.

Ivan smiled back and gently kissed Yao on the lips. "We should go for a walk. This park looks pretty big, there might still be parts of it we haven't discovered," he said.

"Alright," said Yao, scrambling up from where he was sitting, "let's go."

He reached forward, grabbed Ivan's hand and helped him into a standing position.

"I like this place. Even though there's nobody else here, it doesn't seem lonely," Ivan said as they began walking across the grass.

"That's true. It seems quiet, but if you listen, you can hear birds and cicadas and the trees rustling… it's nice," said Yao.

"You're really beautiful, Yao," said Ivan.

Yao turned to Ivan, his golden-brown eyes more beautiful than ever in the sunlight, his dark hair gently dancing in the breeze, and said, "I'm not really, but thanks anyway."

"Oh, but you are! If only you could see yourself right now. Here, I will take a photo to show you," said Ivan, fumbling around in his coat pocket for his phone.

"Take one of both of us," said Yao.

Ivan put his arm around Yao's shoulder and leaned closer to the smaller man before taking the photo.

"Can I see it?" asked Yao.

"Of course," said Ivan, handing the phone to Yao.

Yao looked at the picture on the screen, and then turned to Ivan and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"We look good together," he said.

"We do," said Ivan, putting the phone back into his pocket.

They reached the edge of the grass and began walking down a gravel path that presumably led to another section of the park.

"I'm going to work on Monday," said Yao.

"Really? Do you think you're ready?" asked Ivan.

"It's my job, so I'm sure I'll be fine doing it. Arthur and I discussed it last night, and it seems silly to put it off," said Yao.

"Same hours as before?" asked Ivan, even though he had no idea what hours Yao has worked beforehand.

"Yep, Monday to Friday, nine 'til five," said Yao.

"I'll miss having you around during the day," said Ivan.

"We'll still have a lot of time together. I mean, we live together and spend our nights sleeping next to each other, so it's not like we won't see each other," said Yao.

"That's true, but I like spending all my time with you," said Ivan.

"That's very sweet, but I do need to work — otherwise I won't have any money," said Yao.

"I have money, so if you're only doing it for that reason, then you don't have to do it at all," said Ivan.

"You've been paying for almost everything lately, and you don't have a job yourself," said Yao.

"But Yao, I have money. I have more than enough money," said Ivan.

Yao looked up at Ivan, a curious expression on his face. "How did you end up with so much money? Was it your job or was it something else?" he asked.

It would be so easy for Ivan to just lie. There were so many fake reasons that he could so easily pass off as true — a rich family member left it to him in their will, he won it at a horse race or casino, he stumbled upon an item in a second-hand shop, found out it was worth a lot of money and sold it on the internet. But he had promised himself he wouldn't lie to Yao any more than he had to. If it didn't have anything to do with their relationship, he had to tell the truth.

"I… it's sort of a long story, and not one you'd want to hear," said Ivan.

Yao stopped walking and looked at him.

"What did you do?" asked Yao.

He looked concerned; worried, even. Ivan didn't want to make his boyfriend worry, but he wanted to tell him the truth.

"Ivan, what did you _do_?" asked Yao.

Ivan stayed silent for a moment. He shouldn't have brought it up, but then it would have been brought up some other time and the sooner he told Yao, the sooner Yao would accept it and they could move on from there.

"Do I have to guess? Were you in the mafia? A drug dealer? A prostitute? Ivan, please, you told me before, didn't you? You can tell me again!" said Yao.

"I was a bartender," Ivan said quietly.

"That's not bad. There's more, isn't there?" asked Yao.

Ivan nodded. "The man who owned the bar was named Zinoviy Novikov. He was Russian, like me — at the time I was not very good at English, so it was good to have boss who could understand when I spoke my own language. Also the job was worth quite a lot of money — I guess it was an incentive for me to keep my mouth shut about his _other_ job," said Ivan.

"What was his other job?" asked Yao.

"He was a loan shark, which is illegal by itself, but I also heard that he was somehow involved in drug dealing or illegal gunrunning or something. Those might have just been rumours, but the loan shark thing was a fact. There was a back room in the bar where he would take the people who wouldn't or couldn't pay him, and he had these thugs working for him — they were huge hulking men, made even me look small — who would rough them up a bit, and by a bit I mean break all their bones and toss them into the gutter. He even cut a man's whole hand off once when he couldn't pay off a very large sum of money," explained Ivan.

"So were you just a bartender for this guy, or was there more to it?" asked Yao.

"There's more," said Ivan, "one night after I'd been working there for maybe four months, when the bar was closed but before I finished cleaning up and went home, Novikov was at one of the tables talking to one of his thugs about something. Now, Novikov was an older man, maybe in his fifties, and he was smaller than me, while the other guy was huge, at least six foot six and built like a fucking tank. The three of us were the only people in the building, and Novikov said something, I don't know what, that really pissed the big guy off. And you should have seen how he _snapped_, one second he was just sitting there, as calm as anything, and the next he just got up, grabbed the table, and threw it straight at Novikov. Now, for an old guy, Novikov was pretty nimble, so he was able to dodge and run. There was a safe in the back room with a huge amount of money and a gun in it, and I'm thinking he went in there to get one or the other — probably to shoot him the guy, but maybe he was going to try and bribe his way out of it first — but before he could do either of them, the guy snapped his neck. I didn't see it but I sure as hell heard it. The thug came out of the back room carrying Novikov's body, limp-necked and with a knife in his chest, just to make sure he was really dead, and he told me ever so calmly that if I went to the police, he would kill me, and considering what he'd just done, I didn't doubt for a second that he wouldn't go through with that threat. Then he just left the building, taking Novikov's body with him as if it was the most normal thing in the world."

"But what does that have to do with you having money?" asked Yao.

"Oh, I'm getting to that. Remember how I said Novikov was going to the safe to get either the gun or the money? Well, he didn't get either of them out, but he did open the safe, and so I just took all of the cash out of it. I was poor and Novikov was dead, so I needed it more than he did. And Yao, Yao, guess how much was in there! Guess!" said Ivan.

"A hundred thousand dollars?" asked Yao.

"More," said Ivan.

"Two hundred thousand?" asked Yao.

"No — a little over a million," said Ivan.

Yao's eyes widened in surprise.

"I still have most of it too. Aside from paying the rent on my apartment, which is quite expensive, and sending money to my sisters each month, I don't really spend more than the average person who doesn't have a million dollars in the bank," said Ivan.

"Oh my god. One million… you are… oh my god."

"Please don't tell anyone about this. You can tell people I have money, just not how I got it," said Ivan.

"Of course, of course," said Yao, who still seemed rather shocked.

"Do you… think less of me for it?" asked Ivan.

"No, not at all. It's just very unexpected," said Yao.

Ivan nodded. "Just so you know, if you want anything, I can buy it for you. I couldn't before because it would look suspicious if you were to suddenly acquire a lot of expensive things, but now that everyone knows about us, I can buy you anything at all," he said.

"You don't need to buy me stuff, Ivan," said Yao, taking Ivan's hand and starting down the path again.

"What about one of those panda bears that you like?" asked Ivan.

"That would be lovely, but you can't just buy pandas to keep as house pets," said Yao.

"I can buy you a zoo to keep it in!" said Ivan.

"An entire zoo? I think that that's beyond even your price range. It's a nice thought, though," said Yao.

"Well, what _do_ you want?" asked Ivan.

Yao looked up for a moment, as if he were deliberating.

"A kiss," he finally said.

"A kiss, you say? What if I want something in return?" asked Ivan.

"It depends what you want," said Yao.

"I want to touch you," said Ivan, wrapping his arms around Yao's body and pulling him closer.

"Well, it all depends on where you want to touch me," Yao said as he looked up at Ivan.

"Every inch of your body, Yao. But that's a bit much to ask for the price of one kiss, so I'll settle for here," said Ivan, placing his hand on Yao's backside and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, you didn't give me the kiss you promised me," said Yao.

Ivan leaned down to kiss Yao, the smaller man's tongue pushing past his lips and into his mouth. Ivan slipped his hand down the back of Yao's pants, gently touching him through the thin cotton fabric of his boxers. Yao didn't protest, wrapping his arms around the Ivan and pressing his lithe body against the Russian's larger one.

Ivan was surprised when Yao suddenly pulled away, and was about to ask why when two women walked out of an area of the park seclude by trees, one pushing a stroller. They were talking quite loudly, and Ivan figured that Yao had heard them and didn't want to be caught in a compromising position.

"Shall we keep walking?" asked Ivan.

"Okay," said Yao, taking the bigger man's hand as the two of them started walking again, "but I have another question."

"What is it?" asked Ivan.

"If you have so much money, why haven't you spent very much of it?" asked Yao.

"I'd rather not squander it all on luxury items that I don't actually need. My family never had much money when I was growing up, and I don't want to go back to that — I don't want my sisters to have to go back to that either. So if I don't waste it on crap and just send them some money now and then, that won't happen," said Ivan.

"You're such a sweet person," said Yao.

"I've told you before, I'm nice to people who are nice to me. You're nice to me, and so are my sisters. Well… Anastasiya is, at least," said Ivan.

"There must be people other than me and your sister who are nice to you," said Yao, "I mean, you met my friends and I'm sure that they liked you, and I know my mother thinks very highly of you."

"They like me because of you. When you're with me, I'm a better person," said Ivan.

"How do I make you a better person?" asked Yao.

"You just _do_. People used to think I was creepy and unnerving for some reason, but when I go places with you, nobody looks at me like that any more," said Ivan.

"Why did people think you were creepy?" asked Yao, looking curiously at Ivan as they neared the park gate.

"I don't know. I mean, I don't think I'm creepy. And you didn't either, when we first met. I was sitting alone at a table in a bar, and you came and sat down across from me. You said that your friends were all drunk and you thought I looked lonely, and we got talking. People don't do that sort of thing, not with me, but you did," said Ivan.

"Well, maybe I liked you. I mean, you _are_ very attractive," said Yao.

"You think? You're the gorgeous one," said Ivan.

He stopped to pluck a flower from a tree by the path and tuck it behind Yao's ear before opening the iron gate and letting it swing open.

"Should we get something to eat on the way back? I'm kind of hungry," said Yao, walking out onto the street.

"That sounds good," said Ivan.

Yao took the flower out from behind his ear and looked at it for a moment, then he held it up to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"It smells really nice," he said.

"You smell really nice," said Ivan.

"Sure," said Yao.

"You really do. Your hair smells amazing, it must be your shampoo or something," said Ivan.

"That reminds me," said Yao, as they turned the corner onto the street that eventually led to his house, "I need to wash my hair when I get home."

"Okay. Shall we go to that cafe place that's on this street first? You said you wanted something to eat," said Ivan.

Yao nodded. "Sounds good," he said.

* * *

><p>Yao ran his hands through his long, wet hair, rinsing the last of the shampoo out of his dark locks. He stood still for a moment, letting the warm water wash over him as steam enveloped his body.<p>

Yao thought he heard a faint noise — perhaps a light knock on the bathroom door.

"Ivan? Was that you?" he called out.

"I spilled my drink on my coat. Would I be able to come in to put it in the laundry basket?" asked Ivan.

"Sure," said Yao.

Behind the shower curtain, Yao couldn't see what was happening, but he could still hear. He listened to the door open and Ivan's footsteps as the Russian walked into the room. There was a rustling of clothes as Ivan took off his coat.

"Hey Yao, are you nearly finished?" asked Ivan.

"Almost. I shouldn't be more than a couple of minutes," said Yao.

"Oh, okay. I think I might have shower myself when you're done," said Ivan, "I will leave you to finish your shower now."

Yao heard the door close, and was left alone in the room once more.

Yao turned the shower off, pulled the curtain back and grabbed his towel, which he wrapped around his waist. He briefly looked at his blurry reflection in the steamed up mirror before returning to the bedroom to get dressed. He closed the curtains so nobody outside could see him and began to dry himself off.

Yao heard the shower running across the hall as he rummaged through the drawers in search of clothing. He grabbed a shirt and was about to put it on when he realised he needed to dry his hair first. Yao picked up the towel again, rewrapped it around his waist and went back to the bathroom in search of a hair dryer.

"Hey Ivan," Yao said, glad that Ivan had actually been _in_ the shower when he walked in and not just undressing, "do we have a hair dryer?"

"Da, in the cupboard under the basin," said Ivan.

Yao bent down to open the cupboard, holding his towel in place so it wouldn't fall off. Even though the only other person in the room was Ivan, who had most likely already seen him naked countless times and was behind a shower curtain, Yao still felt a little self conscious about his state of undress. As he plugged the hair dryer into the electrical socket, Yao realised that just a few feet away, behind the damp, flimsy curtain, Ivan was also naked — and _wet_. The water would be caressing his body, touching him _everywhere_, and Yao couldn't help picturing the scenario in his mind. Yes, it was just a shower, a mundane activity that everybody everywhere took part in every single day, but it turned Yao on.

Being aroused by an image, the mere _idea_ of an image, was new for Yao. He'd felt like this before, but only from being touched — the morning that he'd started reacquainting himself with his own body, and then just yesterday when he and Ivan had gotten a little too frisky on the sofa. This sort of thing, though, hadn't happened to him before — at least not since losing his memory.

Yao yanked the hair dryer plug out of the socket and took it back to his bedroom. He would, eventually, get around to drying his hair, but he needed to calm down first. Nothing good could come from having such thoughts while the subject of his perverted fantasy was in the room.

Yao lay down on the bed, realising that he really shouldn't lay his wet hair on top of the pillow but not caring. He hoped that if Ivan got out of the shower and came back to the bedroom that he would knock first, but another, smaller part of him hoped that the Russian would burst into the room, notice Yao's flushed face, moist body and the obvious bulge beneath his towel, and proceed to have wet, naked sex with him for the rest of the afternoon. Yao simultaneously craved and dreaded that.

It occurred to him that if he had gotten himself in this state through merely being in the same room as a showering Ivan, plus a little bit of imagination, then perhaps Ivan had been similarly excited when he went into the bathroom to put his coat in the wash and Yao had been in the shower. Maybe that was why he'd decided to have a shower by himself — either because he needed to cool down, or so he could have some privacy to release that 'excitement'. It was unlikely, but still an extremely arousing thought.

Yao slipped his hand under the towel and, ever so gently, began to touch himself. As his careful fingers ghosted over the hard flesh of his arousal, he let out a soft moan and clasped his free hand over his mouth. He wasn't alone in the house, so he needed to be quiet.

The light touches weren't doing it for him any more, and so Yao roughly seized his manhood and began pumping it with his hand, his fingers wrapped around the stiff member. He squeezed his eyes shut and began moving his hips in time with his hand. Yao gave one last muffled cry, thrust his hips upwards and released himself.

Yao wiped his hand on the towel and let it rest at his side, along with the one that had been covering his mouth. As he lay there, panting, indulging in the quickly-fading bliss of his sexual release, thoughts and fragments of thoughts swirled in his mind. Thoughts about Ivan — his name, Yao admitted, had been the muffled cry that he had let out as he climaxed. It was a little embarrassing, even just to admit to himself, but he supposed it was a good sign that the name of his boyfriend, the man that he had once loved and surely would love again, came so naturally to his lips during a moment of self pleasure. Yao was, of course, sure that he would grow to love Ivan has he had done before — and why wouldn't he? The bigger man was so kind to him, and the fact that Yao found him _very_ attractive was just icing on the cake.

Yao swung his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the shirt that he had left on the bedside table and put it on, ignoring his wet hair dampening the back of it the second he donned the garment. He couldn't hear the shower running any longer, and hurriedly dressed himself. When Yao emerged from the bedroom, fully clothed and clutching the balled-up towel so that the white splotches on the purple fabric were hidden from view, he found Ivan standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall right next to the bathroom door. Yao couldn't help but think that it was a rather seductive pose.

"Did you enjoy your shower?" Yao asked, sweetly kissing Ivan on the cheek.

"I did, da," said Ivan, running his hands through Yao's long, wet hair.

"That's good," said Yao, slipping into the bathroom and chucking the towel into the laundry basket before stepping back out into the hall.

"You know, you look really beautiful with your hair down," said Ivan.

"Oh, thank you. You look really beautiful when you're—" _half naked and dripping wet_ "—looking at me like that."

"Like what?" asked Ivan as he moved toward the bedroom door.

"Like I'm special. Like I'm someone worth looking at. Like you love me," said Yao.

"I do love you," said Ivan.

Yao smiled. He was happy that Ivan loved him, but at the same time, he felt a pang of guilt whenever he heard the Russian say those words because he knew that he couldn't return them yet. It would be cruel to say that he loved Ivan when he didn't — oh, he certainly _liked_ Ivan, he liked him a great deal, but from Yao's perspective, they had only known each other for a week, and although that week was all that Yao would remember, it was too soon to fall in love.

Little did he know, it had taken Ivan far less time than that to fall in love with him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: sorry that this chapter took a while, but I sort of tend to write most of this in study class at school, and the last part of the chapter is not something I particularly wanted to work on in a classroom full of people. Actually, wasn't entirely sure if I wanted to leave that in, but in the end I decided to because I'd already gone to the trouble of writing it, and I also figured it sets up Yao's attraction to Ivan – it's not quite the love-bordering-on-obsession that Ivan has for him, but it's certainly there.<strong>

**Although the part in Ivan's recollection of Novikov's death where the thug dude stabbed him in the chest after snapping his neck seems a bit like overkill, in actual fact, snapping someone's neck rarely kills them instantly. Instant paralysis? Sure, if you can manage it (and it takes a great deal of strength to snap a person's neck), but instant death? Not likely.**

**Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and, once again, thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited and alerted this story since the last chapter was published.**


	10. I'll Work For Your Love

Ivan finally understood why it was called _falling in love_. He had fallen in love with Yao, and it had been fast and uncontrollable, like literally falling. The only difference was that after falling, one can simply get back up again — there was no way for Ivan to stop loving Yao. He didn't _want_ to stop loving Yao, because the moments he spent with Yao were among the happiest moments of his life. It was Monday, ten days since Ivan had met Yao, and nine days since the accident. Ivan could scarcely believe that only ten days ago, he had woken up alone in his own apartment, not knowing that Yao even existed. In some ways it felt as if he had known Yao for his entire life, and although he knew that he hadn't, Ivan felt like he'd known the smaller man for longer than ten days.

Perhaps it felt like that because so much had happened in those ten days. The sex, the car crash, the fair, meeting Yao's mother, running into the rude kid in town, Francis's party, exploring the neighbourhood and finding the park… even though there were days when they didn't go out, days when they would curl up on the sofa together and watch a movie or just stay in bed and talk, Ivan's new life with Yao was so much more eventful than his old life by himself.

Back then he would often spend the whole day in his apartment doing nothing at all, just watching TV and waiting for it to be late enough to go out for a drink — drinking alone in a bar at night was sad, but drinking alone in his apartment during the daytime was just pathetic. Sometimes, if he went to the same bar enough times, he would get to know the regulars there — not by talking to them but by listening to the conversations they had near him. He'd done the same when he'd worked as a bartender, just listening to people, finding out all sorts of things about them while they barely noticed his existence.

On rare occasions, people would approach him — not because they were friendly and wanted a conversation like Yao had, but because they were hammered and horny and wanted a drunk fuck, and Ivan just happened to be young, attractive, alone and not so scary looking when seen through the eyes of someone who was completely intoxicated. If he felt like it, he would agree to the person's proposition — their names didn't often stick in his head, so he remembered them simply as _that person _— and they would go back to either his apartment or wherever they lived and have sex, and that would be it. No profound emotional bond like the one he felt for Yao, no making breakfast in the morning or promising to keep in touch and get to know each other better, just simple, no-strings-attached sex.

The alarm clock on the bedside table went off, blaring the chorus of some loud song on whatever radio station it was tuned into. Ivan felt Yao stir beside him and reach across to turn the alarm off, his long hair, which he often left out when he slept, tickling Ivan's back as he leaned over the Russian's body. Ivan then felt Yao climb over him and out of bed, and remembered that today was the day that Yao went back to work.

Ivan sleepily watched Yao as the smaller man changed out of his pyjamas — the yellow flannel ones that made him so soft to hold onto at night — and into a shirt and a pair of sensible trousers for work.

"You should get back into bed for a moment or two," Ivan said sleepily.

"I can't, I don't want to be late for work. But how long have you been awake?" asked Yao.

"Since just before the alarm went off," said Ivan.

"Oh, so you were watching me get dressed," said Yao, running a hairbrush through his long hair and tying it back in a ponytail.

Ivan grinned. "You caught me. Even though I've seen it all before, I can't help but be captivated by any glimpses of your body I can get," he said.

Yao blushed lightly and leaned down to kiss Ivan.

"Hey," he said, running his fingers down Ivan's back, "if you hate being cold so much, why do you sleep shirtless?"

"Because I have you to warm me up," said Ivan.

"Well, I quite enjoy warming you up," said Yao, gently kissing Ivan on the forehead, "but I have to go get ready for work now. Arthur said he'd pick me up since my car's trashed — I need to see if I can collect insurance on that to get it replaced — so I'll see you this evening."

"Okay. Bye bye Yao," Ivan said sleepily.

He hadn't bothered looking at the clock, but he knew it was early, so as soon as Yao left the room, Ivan rolled over and went back to sleep.

He dreamed about Yao.

In his dream, he and Yao were sitting together in a field of sunflowers. The sky was dark but the flowers themselves lit up the field, bathing Yao in their soft, golden glow. He looked so perfect and beautiful, and he seemed so at home in the field of glowing flowers — a beauty surrounded by beauty.

Ivan wanted to touch Yao, but he couldn't quite reach him. Still, he was quite content to sit and watch Yao as the smaller man sat there and gazed lovingly at him. Neither of them spoke, but Ivan could tell that Yao was happy too.

* * *

><p>"It's not too hectic now, but when it gets closer to the election, it bloody well will be. However, that's a long way off, and by then you'll have familiarised yourself with how things run around here. Any more questions?" asked Arthur.<p>

Yao shook his head. Arthur had been explaining the ins and outs of his job as they drove from Yao's house in the suburbs to the city centre, and Yao was pretty sure he understood what he had to do. That didn't stop the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he tried to ignore that. This was his job, he had done so many times before, and if he could do it then, he could do it now.

"Okay, well, if there's anything you need to know about, just ask me. If I'm not around for some reason, you can just ask one of the others," said Arthur, as he parked the car and took the key out of the ignition.

"Of course, although I'm sure I'll be fine," said Yao, getting out of the car.

"You will be," said Arthur.

Yao followed Arthur out of the indoor parking garage to the building across the street where they worked. Inside it was sleek, clean and modern, and Yao couldn't help but feel calmed by how relaxed everyone seemed.

"Everyone is so chilled out," he whispered to Arthur.

"You don't need to whisper, but this is the ground floor — anyone in the city can come in here and ask questions about Soates and his plans for what he'll do of he's elected and all sorts of other things, so of course it looks calm and inviting. I mean, it's not as if everything is chaotic and this calm façade is a big lie, but if there is any yelling and screaming going on, it'll be happening upstairs," Arthur explained.

"And that's where we work?" asked Yao, following Arthur into an elevator.

"That's where we work," Arthur confirmed as the doors slid shut and the elevator began its ascent.

It didn't take long for them to reach the fourth floor, and as soon as he stepped out of the elevator, Yao felt someone tap his shoulder. He spun around and found that the culprit was a tall man with greying hair.

"Um… do you want something?" Yao asked.

"Yao, be polite, that's John Soates," Arthur hissed at him, "sorry about him, as hard as it is to believe, he's got amnesia and doesn't remember you."

Yao felt his cheeks turning red. He had wanted to do well at this job, but within minutes of arriving he'd already been rather rude to the man he was supposed to be campaigning for.

"I heard about that, it's actually why I came down here — to see how he's going. Yao, would you mind coming up to my office for a chat?" asked John Soates.

"Of course not! I mean, of course I wouldn't mind, not of course I won't talk to… I will come with you, yes," said Yao.

"I'll see you soonish," said Arthur, walking away as Yao followed John Soates into the elevator.

"So," said Soates, "I heard about your amnesia. I also heard about your boyfriend."

"I guess news travels fast around here," said Yao.

"That it does. I just want you to know that I have always been a big supporter of gay rights, and that you do not have to worry about being out and proud in this workplace," said Soates.

"Oh, thanks," said Yao.

"So you really don't remember me at all?" asked Soates.

"No, I don't remember anyone at all," said Yao.

"Huh, well I hope you don't find your job too difficult because of that," said John Soates.

"I'm sure I won't, sir," said Yao.

"Oh, you don't have to call me sir. I prefer Jack," said Soates.

"Okay, _Jack_, uh… what did you want to talk to me about?" asked Yao as the elevator door opened.

"Oh, I think we've already said everything that needs to be said," said Soates, stepping out of the elevator, "you can go back to work now."

Yao nodded, stayed in the elevator and pressed the button to take him back down to the fourth floor.

* * *

><p>It was nearly noon when Ivan woke again. The bed seemed empty without Yao, but Ivan could still smell the smaller man's scent on his pillow and the pyjamas that he had carefully folded and placed on the bed.<p>

Ivan grabbed Yao's discarded pyjama top and held it up to his face, breathing in the wonderful scent — Yao smelled so lovely. It was a combination of the shampoo he used and the soaps that he placed in the dresser drawers so that his clothes would smell nice, but there was something else, something that was distinctively Yao. Whatever it was, Ivan loved it.

He put Yao's clothing back down on the bed and got up. He opened the drawers — although they smelled of Yao's soaps, the scent never seemed to cling to Ivan's clothes like it did to the smaller man's — and grabbed some clothes to wear. After dressing, he sat back down on the sofa and wondered what he was going to do for the rest of the day. It was almost twelve o'clock, which meant that Yao had been at work for nearly three hours and wouldn't be home for another five. Ivan hoped that Yao was doing well — he'd told Ivan the night before that he was feeling a little nervous, but he also seemed determined to go to work, despite Ivan's reminder that he didn't have to because they certainly didn't need the money.

Yao went to work anyway, and Ivan was left wondering what he was to do all day. He supposed that he could make himself useful and do some household chores — he could put the dirty laundry in the washing machine and then see if he could find a vacuum to clean the house with. Although they seemed like very unmanly things to do, Ivan didn't really mind. He was going to do something useful and hopefully Yao would be pleased, so it didn't really matter if it was a little housewife-ish.

Ivan got up, went into the bathroom to grab the laundry basket, and carried it down to the washing machine, which was in a tiny room behind the kitchen. There wasn't a dryer, so there was probably a washing line outside. Ivan had never been into Yao's back garden before — at least, not the literal one behind the house — so he could only assume.

Humming to himself, Ivan started taking the clothes out of the laundry basket and putting them in the washing machine. Yao's t-shirt, his own pants, a teatowel, socks, the coat he'd spilled juice on the other day, a bunched up purple towel that fell open when he picked it up, revealing the previously hidden stains on the fabric.

Ivan grinned as he put that particular item into the washing machine. That was _Yao's_ towel, covered in _Yao's_ stains. Perhaps Ivan was just being dirty-minded and Yao had merely spilled some yoghurt or something on it, but how likely was that? He wouldn't mention it to Yao, though — that would surely embarrass him, and although he thought that Yao was particularly adorable when he was pink-cheeked and flustered, Ivan wasn't that cruel. Well, perhaps he was, but not to Yao. He was a total sweetheart when it came to the smaller man — Yao had told him that himself many a time. Ivan _liked_ being nice to Yao, because seeing him happy made Ivan happy.

Once he had finished with the washing machine and turned it on, Ivan decided to go outside. The back door was in the laundry room, so going out for a little while before finding a vacuum seemed like a good idea.

Ivan stepped outside into the sunshine. The garden behind Yao's house wasn't huge, but it was nice. There were many different varieties of flowers growing there, including sunflowers. Those were Ivan's favourite flowers, knowing that Yao had liked them enough to plant some made him happy. He spotted a garden bench over by the fence, and wandered across to it, the grass soft beneath his boots.

_This would be a nice place to spend time with Yao_, Ivan thought as he sat down. Of course, if he had Yao with him, he could be anywhere in the world and still be happy. Ivan wished that the smaller man was with him now, but knowing that they would see each other in the evening was good enough.

Ivan considered that perhaps he should get a job, just so he would have something to do when Yao was at work. The bar that he used to work at didn't open until evening, but he was pretty sure that at least some would be open during the day. If not, he had other skills.

Whatever he did, Ivan was adamant that he wouldn't get himself involved in a shady business like Novikov's again. Sure, it had gotten him rich, but he didn't want to risk anything happening to Yao. Although the smaller man could clearly take care of himself and didn't need Ivan to protect him, he sure as hell didn't need the danger that came with having a boyfriend who associated with dangerous people. Yao had readily accepted what Ivan had done in the past, but that was because it was _in the past_ — it couldn't touch them.

Ivan wouldn't let it.

* * *

><p>"So, Yao, what was it Soates wanted to talk to you about?" asked Arthur.<p>

It was just after twelve o'clock, and Yao and his friends had decided to go to the café down the street to spend their lunch break.

"Not much, he just asked about my amnesia and said that I didn't have to worry about being gay at work," said Yao.

"He knows about Ivan?" Francis asked, looking a little surprised.

"Yeah, somehow," said Yao, taking a bite of the sandwich he had bought.

"That's weird. I didn't think he paid that much attention to his employees. I don't think he even knows my name," said Arthur.

"He doesn't know mine. He thought I was called Micah," said Matthew.

"Isn't that a girl's name?" asked Alfred.

"I don't think so, but as I was saying, it seems a little weird that Soates knows so much about Yao," said Arthur.

"Maybe he knows Ivan. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that any name that ends with A is a girl's name," said Alfred.

"He also said that I could call him Jack," said Yao.

"But his name is John," said Alfred.

"Jack's short for John," said Arthur, rolling his eyes.

"How is Jack short for John? They're exactly as long as each other," said Alfred.

"It just is," said Arthur.

Yao leaned his chair back so it rested against the wall. He hadn't thought that Soates' behaviour had been strange, but now he supposed that it was a little odd for a mayoral candidate to be so interested and to know so much about one of his employees. Perhaps Arthur was right and Soates knew Ivan, but wouldn't he have mentioned it?

So if he didn't know Ivan, then what was the deal with Soates?

The question was on Yao's mind for the rest of the meal — he barely paid attention to his food as he finished eating. It was probably something simple that Yao didn't remember because of his amnesia, or maybe Soates always knew about the personal lives of his employees and Arthur just wasn't aware of it.

As hard as he tried to ignore it, Yao couldn't stop thinking about it, trying to think of a reason for Soates' strange behaviour. Perhaps they had been close before, but then why would Yao's friends be so surprised?

Maybe they hadn't known.

Yao thought about his relationship with Ivan — that had been a secret too. Perhaps he had had a similar relationship with John Soates, and the other man had been trying to see if Yao remembered it. But that would mean that he had been cheating on Ivan, and he couldn't imagine doing that — even now, when he barely remembered the man he wouldn't dream of doing such a thing. There must be another explanation. There had to be.

Still, it plagued Yao's mind for the rest of the afternoon. When Arthur dropped him off at his house, he rushed inside to tell Ivan the awful truth that he thought he had stumbled upon.

"Yao, you're home!" Ivan said joyfully, looking up from the clean laundry that he was folding to give Yao a cheerful smile.

"Oh, hey, you did the washing," Yao commented, wrapping his arms around the Russian and resting his head on his shoulder. He had missed Ivan's warmth and closeness while he was at work.

"Da, I decided to be helpful. I vacuumed the house too," said Ivan, hugging Yao tightly.

"You're such a good boyfriend, Ivan. But I… I'm not," said Yao, looking away. He didn't even know if his suspicions were correct, so there was really no need to tell Ivan yet, but Yao felt that he should — the bigger man had been so sweet and so honest with him.

"Why do you say that? You've been nothing but wonderful," said Ivan, looking worriedly at Yao.

"I think I cheated on you," Yao said, stepping back.

"You… are you sure? Why do you think that?" asked Ivan.

"Well, today my boss was being really weird. I didn't think so at first because I don't know what normal is for him, but he asked to see me and he knew about my amnesia and about you, and Arthur said it was strange that he was so interested in me, and now that I think about it, the questions that Soates asked me sounded like he was trying to figure out of I remembered him, and he said I could call him Jack, and—"

"Yao, calm down. Why do you think you were cheating on me?" asked Ivan.

"I think I had an affair with Soates, and he was trying to figure out if I remembered it or not," said Yao.

Ivan looked sceptical.

"That's a pretty big conclusion to jump to," he said.

"I've been thinking it over all day, and it makes sense," said Yao, "I wish it didn't, but it does."

Ivan sighed. "Yao, first of all, I don't think you cheated on me. There are so many other things that could explain why your boss was being weird — maybe he wasn't even being weird and that was just normal for him! But Yao, even if you cheated on me, I still love you. We're meant to be together — that's why we're able to stay together even though you don't remember me, and it's why we'll be able to deal with you cheating on me, if you did that at all," said Ivan.

"That just makes it worse! If you're so kind that you would forgive me for that, then what kind of person would I be to throw that all away by sleeping with my boss?" asked Yao.

"Ask him. Find out his phone number, call him, ask him if you fucked him before you lost your memory," said Ivan.

"Do you think he'd tell me? He's a politician, he's running for mayor, do you think he'd want to admit to having an affair with one of his employees?" asked Yao.

"No. I don't know. Maybe," said Ivan.

"He wouldn't, and you know it," said Yao.

"Maybe not over the phone, but if you spoke to him in person he might, although I doubt you actually slept with him anyway. I mean, your reasoning as to why you think you did is a little shaky. He was acting suspicious, but so what? Maybe he was having a weird day. Maybe he wanted to look good by being kind to someone with amnesia to get votes, but wanted to make sure you weren't faking it, or—I don't even know, Yao, I'm pretty certain that you didn't cheat on me," said Ivan.

With Ivan reassuring him that Yao cheating didn't make much sense, the smaller man began to calm down. He supposed he had jumped to a rather unlikely conclusion, and he felt kind of silly. Yao wondered if he always did things like that, or if it was just confusion because he couldn't remember anything that happened before the accident.

"Ugh, that was a little stupid of me," Yao said as he sat down on the sofa, "I'm sorry, I just being a dumbass."

"You aren't a dumbass, you just didn't really think it through. I mean, you don't remember anything about your life before last week, so of course you're going to get confused," said Ivan, gently placing his hand on Yao's shoulder.

"I'm glad I have you here. Not only are you a total sweetheart, you're also very helpful," said Yao.

Ivan nodded. "And I'm lucky to have you because you're kind and beautiful and funny and—"

"Stop, I'm not that great," Yao said, though he didn't really mind how Ivan loved to flatter him.

"Oh, Yao, I almost forgot — I'm going to cook for you tonight. I was looking through one of your Chinese recipe books and I found a dish that looks pretty easy, so I am going to make it for you," said Ivan.

"Really? Oh, that sounds wonderful. You really are my little housewife; cooking and cleaning while I go to work," Yao joked.

"Not for long," said Ivan as he finished folding the last of the clean laundry, "I'm thinking about getting myself a job."

"That sounds like a good idea," said Yao.

"Da. Now, you go and relax and do whatever you want to do, and I'll get started on dinner," said Ivan.

"Okay. I'll put these away for you," said Yao, picking up the pile of neatly folded clothes and taking them with him as he left the room.

"Wait a moment, Yao," said Ivan, following Yao into their bedroom, "I want a kiss first."

Yao put the clothes down on the bed and pulled Ivan close, kissing him tenderly on the lips.

"I missed you today," Yao said as their lips parted.

"I missed you too," said Ivan.

They kissed again, and when they broke apart, Yao began to unbutton Ivan's coat.

"What are you doing, Yao?" asked Ivan.

"Since you washed your other coat and not this one, you should put the other one on now and put this one in the laundry. I mean, you wear them practically every day, so this one is bound to be at least a little dirty," said Yao, taking Ivan's coat off and handing him the clean and nicely folded one.

"Oh, you're so thoughtful. At first I thought you just wanted to undress me," said Ivan.

"Not quite," said Yao as he began to put the clean clothes into the dresser drawers.

"I want to undress you," said Ivan, gently running his hands over Yao's back as the smaller man bent over to open one of the drawers.

"I bet you do," said Yao.

Ivan gently squeezed Yao's backside and leaned forward to kiss his neck.

"What's with your obsession with my butt? You seem to really like touching and groping it," said Yao. Truthfully, he didn't really mind Ivan's strange fondness for his behind, although he didn't understand what was so great about it.

"It's so fun to touch, Yao, and when I do it, you get all flustered and cute," said Ivan.

"I'm not cute," said Yao, turning around to face Ivan.

"Look at you, all pink-cheeked and pouting. That is cute, Yao. You are such a cutie. Anyway, I will go get started on dinner, you relax and don't worry about Soates at all," said Ivan, kissing Yao on the cheek before walking out of the room.

Yao smiled. Somehow, he felt a lot calmer after talking with Ivan. He needed Ivan; not just to help him deal with his memory loss, but to help him deal with life. Yao had thought and said it so many times, but it was true — he was so lucky to have Ivan.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**So, Yao finally went back to work this chapter, which is something I've been working up to for a while. It's strange how in-story just over a week has passed, whereas I've been writing this for about two and a half months. It's my own fault for always taking a week to write a chapter that encompasses the events of a single day – but don't worry, I'll be sure to try and move through the plot a bit faster, otherwise it'll take me seven years to get through the entire story, and I don't want that to happen.**

**Anyway, even though my author's notes usually contain actual information and stuff, this one's just me waffling, so I might end it here – but not before saying that I'm super grateful for all of the nice feedback I've been getting! Seriously, even though I do it almost every chapter, I just want to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited or alerted _One Little Lie_, or even just enjoyed it but didn't say anything.**


	11. Secrets

"Hey, what are you cooking?" asked Yao.

Ivan looked up from the food he was preparing to see that Yao had finally come out of the bathroom. He was fully dressed, but his hair still looked a little damp. Ivan thought that it was cute, but then again, he _always_ thought that Yao looked cute.

"The recipe book says it's called _spring onion savoury_. I chose to make this one because it was the page the book fell open on, and it looked simple enough," Ivan explained.

"Ah," said Yao, looking over at the picture in the recipe book that Ivan was using, "it looks nice."

"Hopefully mine will taste nice. I've never cooked Chinese food before, so it won't be as good as something you would make, but it should be alright," said Ivan.

"I'm sure it will be more than alright," said Yao, picking up Ivan's phone, "this has Internet access, right?"

Ivan nodded. "If there's wifi nearby it will log in to that, but if there isn't it just uses some other server, but it costs me money when it does that," he said.

"Oh. Do you mind if I quickly Google something?" asked Yao.

"Sure, I'll just unlock it for you," said Ivan.

Yao handed him the phone, and Ivan slid his finger across the screen and then entered the passcode to unlock it. His background was the picture of himself and Yao that they had taken at the park, which he was very fond of.

"Here you go," Ivan said as he handed the phone back to Yao, "do whatever you want with it. I don't mind if you use up all the money I have on that, I barely ever use it so I don't need it."

Ivan went back to his cooking, looking up every so often to find that Yao was staring intently at the phone, mesmerised by whatever was on the screen.

"What are you looking at?" Ivan eventually asked.

"Soates. I mean, I figure that if I work for him, I should know what his policies are, and if I find some personal information that helps me figure out whether or not I had an affair with him, then that's also good," said Yao.

"So what did you find out?" asked Ivan.

"Well, he's not affiliated with any party and has mixed views on different issues, but he's more liberal than conservative. He has a wife and two kids, before getting into politics he was a lawyer, and apparently his hobbies outside work are golf and literature," said Yao.

"I wonder if those are really his hobbies. Maybe his true interests are the sort of things he wouldn't want to publicise, like strip poker and excessive drinking," said Ivan.

"Perhaps, but—wait a second, is that Alfred?" asked Yao.

"I don't know, is it?" asked Ivan, working on the meal as he spoke.

"It is him, and he's on Soates' official campaign website," said Yao.

"So he just has a random picture of Alfred on his website? Does Alfred lead a secret other life as a stock photo model or something?" asked Ivan.

"No, it's from some sort of official function. See, I was looking at some other photos and so I recognise that that's Soates' wife Melinda, that's his daughter Kelly, that's him, obviously, I have no idea who that woman is, and that's Alfred," said Yao.

"Perhaps employees of the campaign were invited to that particular function. Maybe if you click around you'll find pictures of you," said Ivan.

Yao laughed. "Maybe. It's just a little weird seeing someone I know on Soates' site."

Talking about Soates reminded Ivan of the affair that Yao thought he had had, conjuring up a disturbing mental image of the smaller man bent over an office desk, being taken from behind by some smarmy politician. It simultaneously excited Ivan and made his skin crawl. Any thoughts of sweaty, naked Yao sex were sure to be arousing ones, but when they also involved an old, married creep who didn't love him, who only wanted to use Yao's young, attractive body for sexual pleasure, these thoughts became repulsive.

Ivan didn't know why his mind had come up with such a detailed picture of something that probably hadn't happened. He couldn't quite see Yao's reasoning for why he thought he had had an affair with Soates, but even if it had happened, it hadn't been an affair — not on Yao's part, at least, since he hadn't known Ivan at that point. Still, Ivan hoped it hadn't happened, since it would be terrible for Yao to think he'd been unfaithful when in fact he hadn't had a boyfriend to stay faithful to.

"You have sunflowers in your garden," said Ivan, steering the topic of conversation away from Soates.

"I do?" asked Yao.

"You do. I went out there for the first time today and saw them — they're my favourite flower," said Ivan.

"They're you're favourite? Huh, I'll try to remember that for Valentine's Day or some other special occasion," said Yao.

"Before, when our relationship wasn't public, I never went outside," said Ivan, noticing and trying to cover the hole in his story, "I was a little worried that the neighbours would see and wonder why there was a strange man in your back yard."

"Ah, that makes sense," said Yao.

A loud vibration sounded, and Yao looked down at his pants.

"Is that your phone or has your penis learned a new trick?" asked Ivan.

Yao laughed. "It's my phone," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the device.

He pressed the answer button and placed the phone on the bench next to Ivan's.

"Hello?"

"Hey Yao, it's me, Alfred," came Alfred's familiar voice.

"I know, your name popped up on the screen when you called," said Yao.

"Oh, right, I thought maybe your phone had amnesia too. I'm not sure why but it sort of made sense in my mind even though I can see now that it doesn't," said Alfred.

Ivan snorted. Although Alfred seemed like a fairly nice guy, from what he had seen, Yao's American friend wasn't too bright.

"Is that Ivan?" asked Alfred.

"Yes, that's him," said Yao.

"I actually called to ask something about him. Can I speak to him?" asked Alfred.

"I don't know, can you? Maybe he's a little busy to talk right now. He's cooking dinner for me, because he's such a good boyfriend," said Yao, leaning closer to the phone.

"Wow, that's pretty nice of him, but I just have a question to ask," said Alfred.

"You can ask me whatever it is. Yao has his phone on speaker, so I can talk and cook at the same time," said Ivan.

"Okay, I was just wondering, do you drink, like, alcohol? Because sometimes we all go out for drinks, Yao included even though he just has some sort of non-alcoholic thing, and I was thinking that if you wanted to you could come with us some time," said Alfred.

"Da, I drink," said Ivan, still concentrating on the savouries he was making.

"I should have figured, since you're Russian and all. Isn't everyone in your country drunk 24/7?" asked Alfred.

"Not everyone, and not all the time. But Alfred, why is your picture on your boss's campaign site, huh?" asked Ivan.

"Oh, my mom is pretty good friends with Soates and his wife, so she dragged me along to one of the campaign thingies before I even worked for him and I guess someone took a photo of me," Alfred explained.

"Is your mother involved in politics?" asked Ivan.

"No, she's actually a writer. She wrote this one teenage vampire romance book a couple of years before that sort of thing became a huge craze, and it got rediscovered and ended up making her a lot of money recently, and so she donated some to Soates' campaign because he's a pretty cool guy, and then she became friends with his wife and stuff. I think it's actually because of that that I ended up getting the job working for him," said Alfred.

"Um, Alfred, if you sort of know Soates a bit more than most, do you have any idea why he was acting a little weird today? I mean, I think it was a little weird, it might be completely normal, but the way he spoke to me this morning seemed a bit odd," said Yao.

"Oh, I think he was trying to see if you remembered about Jenna," said Alfred.

"Jenna?" asked Ivan. He was quite relieved that there was a reason for Soates' strange behaviour, but he was also rather curious as to who or what Jenna was and how Yao was involved.

"I really shouldn't be telling you guys this, especially you, Ivan, since you're not part of it at all, but since I mentioned it I guess I have to," said Alfred.

"What is it? It sounds serious," said Yao.

"Okay, so Soates is actually a really nice guy, and he's charismatic and he's got good policies and he could really go far. Like, not just become the mayor, he could be, like, President in twenty years or so, so you've got to promise not to tell anyone, because this could really damage his career," said Alfred.

"I guess if it's something I knew before and never told anybody then I can be trusted," said Yao.

"Okay, so this one time, Yao, you and I had to see Soates about something, I can't even remember what it was, and so we went up to his office and I sort of barged in without knocking, and Jenna Maxwell was in there with him, she's like some sort of intern or secretary or something, and she was half naked and it was obviously not something that we were supposed to see. Anyway, he told us to keep our mouths shut about it because it would destroy his campaign and we'd both be out of a job, and even though it was a really tough decision to make since I know his wife and she's really nice and really good friends with my mom, but in the end, I didn't tell anyone, and neither did you, and neither did Jenna, I guess, and so you just need to continue not telling people," said Alfred, his tone of voice unusually serious.

"See, Yao, I told you it wasn't you," said Ivan.

The look of relief was obvious on the darkhaired man's face.

"What wasn't Yao?" asked Alfred.

"I thought that the reason Soates was acting a little weird with me today was that _I_ had an affair with him," said Yao.

"You? No way, you wouldn't cheat on Ivan. I've seen the way you two look at each other," said Alfred.

"You were half right, though. Does Soates just look like the type of person who has affairs with his workers?" asked Ivan.

"I don't think so. Anyway, I need to go, but Yao, I'll see you tomorrow, and Ivan, I'll see you… at some point. Bye!" said Alfred, hanging up.

Yao put the phone back in his pocket and smiled at Ivan.

"I didn't do it, Ivan. I didn't cheat on you," said Yao.

"I always knew you wouldn't do something like that," said Ivan.

"I know that we talked about it and that it didn't really make sense, but it's good to _know_, to be completely sure," said Yao.

"Of course," said Ivan.

He was glad too — not that Yao hadn't cheated on him because there had been no danger of that, but that he didn't have to choose between letting Yao think that he had had an affair and telling him that they had never been in a relationship to begin with. Ivan didn't know which he would have chosen.

Ivan had promised himself he'd only lie to Yao so that he wouldn't find out about the fact that Ivan had never been his boyfriend, but what if that lie also convinced Yao that he had done something wrong, like cheating? Was that better or worse than Yao knowing the truth? Ivan had rationalised his lies by telling himself that he was helping Yao, that Yao needed him so he wouldn't have to deal with his memory loss alone, but tricking him into thinking that he'd had an affair wasn't helpful at all.

Ivan was glad he hadn't had to face the dilemma, although he knew that there was a very real chance that he would have to make a hard decision like that eventually.

"Do you mind if I go and have a shower before dinner?" asked Yao.

"I don't mind at all," said Ivan, "in fact, it's probably for the best because it's hard to concentrate on what I'm doing when talking to someone as beautiful as you."

Yao blushed. "You are such a sweet person, you know that, right?"

"I'm sweet to you because you're lovely and you deserve it," Ivan said as Yao walked out of the room.

God, how he loved Yao. Sometimes Ivan wanted to fuck him senseless, but other times he just wanted to hold Yao in his arms, gaze into those beautiful eyes of his and tell him how precious he was. He wanted Yao's gorgeous face to be the last thing he saw before falling asleep at night and the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning. He wanted to hold Yao's hand, gently kiss his lips and play with his long, beautiful hair. Ivan just wanted _Yao_, and he _had_ him.

He just needed to try his hardest to keep him.

* * *

><p>Yao stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He still wasn't sure whether he showered in the morning or the evening —he supposed that he had a routine before he lost his memory, but now he just showered whenever he felt the need — the need to be clean, to be alone, to warm himself up on cold days and cool himself down on hot ones.<p>

After drying himself off, Yao dressed in the clothes he'd brought into the bathroom with him and set about drying his hair. As feminine as it made him look, Yao liked his long hair. He also liked when Ivan touched it, running those big, strong hands of his through the silky locks. It felt nice, and Yao knew that Ivan liked doing it too.

Once his hair was dry, Yao tied it back in the low ponytail that he always wore and went down the hall to the kitchen, where Ivan was setting the table.

"Ah, good timing. Dinner is ready," he said.

"It looks delicious," said Yao, looking at the plate of savouries on the table.

"I also made you a cup of tea," said Ivan, setting a mug down next to the plate.

"Thanks," said Yao, sitting down and picking up a savoury from the plate.

He noticed Ivan watching him expectantly as he bit into it, and he nodded appreciatively.

"It's good," Yao said after swallowing, "it's really good."

"I'm glad you like it," said Ivan, leaning across the table to kiss Yao.

"Are you sure this is the first time you've cooked these?" he asked.

"Da, I'm sure. They're probably not as good as what you would make, but if you like them, then I'm quite proud of them," said Ivan, picking up a savoury of his own.

"I've probably had a lot more practice at cooking. This is delicious, though," said Yao.

"Mmmm, they are good," said Ivan.

"So, you're kind, you're handsome, you're sexy and you can cook. I think I have the perfect boyfriend," said Yao.

"Nyet, I think _I_ have the perfect boyfriend," said Ivan.

Yao smiled. "You're such a sweetie," he said, faintly blushing.

"So are you," replied Ivan, "and I love you, and you don't have to say it back until you're ready."

Yao nodded. "For what it's worth, I _really_ like you," he said.

"And that's good enough."

* * *

><p>Yao's eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to look at the television screen. Just a moment ago he had been watching a movie with Ivan, but now the TV was playing an advertisement for some sort of fantastic ladder. The clock in the corner of the screen proclaimed that it was four in the morning.<p>

Yao swung his legs over the side of the sofa. His back ached from sleeping on the couch, and he began to feel bad about having Ivan sleep on the sofa on the night after the accident.

"You're awake," Ivan commented.

"Yeah," Yao mumbled sleepily, "why are you watching infomercials?"

"The movie that was playing ended, and then the channel started showing some documentary about strippers, so I changed to a random channel, which happened to be playing infomercials, and still is," Ivan explained.

"Have you been awake and watching infomercials this whole time?" Yao asked, resting his head on Ivan's shoulder. He wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep, but regardless of how long he'd slept, he was still tired.

"Nyet, I fell asleep too," said Ivan.

"You fell asleep sitting up like that?" asked Yao.

"It's pretty easy for me to fall asleep like that, although it's not very comfortable. I'm still tired, though. You look tired to. Do you want to go to bed?" asked Ivan.

Yao nodded, and the two of them got up, turned the TV off and went to the bedroom.

Yao was too tired to bother putting pyjamas on, and so he simply stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed. It wasn't long before the light was off and Ivan was lying next to him.

"My back aches," Yao said soon after Ivan climbed into bed beside him.

"Do you want me to help you with that?" he heard Ivan ask beside him.

"How would you do that?" asked Yao. While his body was weary and his eyes were too tired to stay open, his mind wasn't sleepy at all, and he didn't mind the idea of staying awake with Ivan for a while longer.

"I could try giving you a massage," he said, and Yao felt his body shift on the mattress so that he was in a better position to do so.

"Sure," said Yao, "that would be nice."

Ivan began gently massaging Yao's shoulders and slowly moving down his back.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," he said, "I've never given a massage before."

"I never would have thought that," Yao mumbled tiredly, "you're good."

The ache in his back from lying uncomfortably on the sofa was beginning to disappear, although whether it was from Ivan's massage or just time and lying on a more comfortable surface, Yao didn't know. Either way, he was beginning to feel quite tired, and before too long, he found himself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**This chapter is probably a little underwhelming considering it took more than a week to write and it's not very long, but I keep getting plagued by ideas for oneshots that I can't stop myself from writing – however, I have the next two weeks off school, so I'll have heaps of time to work on One Little Lie _and_ any random other ideas that I have.**

**(It's a good thing that I have no social life to speak of)**


	12. Chinatown

It was two weeks since the accident, and the first day off work that Yao had gotten since going back. At last Ivan could spend his morning in bed with the smaller man, just talking and touching and kissing before they chose to get up and get on with the day. He could finally spend the whole day with the man that he loved instead of having to wait until evening for his return. Even when Yao was asleep, Ivan loved being with him — watching his chest rise and fall as he breathed in and out, looking at his beautiful face that was so serene and calm as he slept, touching him as softly and gently as he possibly could without waking the smaller man.

Yao's sleeping form was a beauty to behold. Although on warmer nights he would sleep in his boxers and a t-shirt, this time he had slept in the yellow flannel pyjamas that Ivan had grown to love. He had always been quite fond of yellow — it was the colour of sunflower petals, which he had for some reason always adored. While the pyjamas that Yao wore were a paler shade of the hue, they still reminded Ivan of his favourite flower, and the colour looked good on Yao in its own right.

Yao was lying on his back, his dark hair out of the ponytail that it was usually tied back in and splayed out across the pillow. Ivan loved Yao's hair — it was so soft to touch and it looked so beautiful on him. It was also very beautiful when tied back, but Ivan particularly loved when it was out because it made it so much easier for him to run his hands through Yao's hair. Although Yao probably left it down most nights because it was easier to sleep with his hair like that, Ivan wondered of maybe he also did it because he liked it when the Russian played with it.

Ivan remembered that when Natalia was young, a lot of the girls in her class liked her long, blonde hair and always wanted to touch it and braid it and style it. Ivan had never really seen the appeal of messing with someone else's hair if you weren't a hairdresser who was getting paid for it — at least, he hadn't before meeting Yao. Now he understood.

Another thing that Ivan loved about Yao when he slept was that he sometimes made noises; cute little hums and wordless mumbles most of the time, but once he had heard the smaller man let out a long, soft moan in his sleep. At the time it had been the middle of the night and dark, but Ivan wished that he could have seen the look on Yao's face as a made such a wonderfully erotic noise, and that he could have known what Yao was dreaming about to elicit such a reaction. Even though Ivan hadn't been able to see Yao, it had still been amazing. He loved to look at Yao, but he also loved the sound of his voice, the scent of his hair, the taste of his lips and the softness of his skin.

Ever so softly, Ivan touched Yao's lips. He loved Yao's mouth, and sometimes when they kissed he imagined how amazing those soft lips and that warm, wet tongue would feel on his cock. He wondered if Yao had ever sucked someone off before.

Ivan felt that perhaps there was something a little perverse about having such dirty thoughts about someone who was sleeping right next to him and looking so cute and innocent as he did. Of course, Yao wasn't completely innocent — even if Ivan didn't count the night they shared together that Yao couldn't remember, there was still the semen-stained towel and the way that Yao had lost control that day on the sofa when Ivan had touched his nipples. Ivan had discovered just how sensitive that particular body part of Yao's was on the night that met. He'd been experimenting with Yao's body, trying to work out what turned him on and what didn't, and soon discovered that Yao was particularly aroused by him touching the small, pink buds on his chest.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Yao, and Ivan looked and saw that the smaller man was now awake, his beautiful eyes gazing at him. Ivan loved Yao's eyes; he loved their beautiful colour that was a mixture of brown and amber, the long, dark lashes that framed them and the way that they looked at him.

"Your beautiful eyes," Ivan replied.

Yao smiled at him. "You are the best person to wake up next to," he said.

Ivan shook his head.

"Nyet, you are," said Ivan, "there is nothing better than waking up and having the first thing I see be your sweet face."

Yao rolled over so that he was lying on his side and looking at Ivan, who gently brushed the smaller man's hair out of his eyes.

"I feel sorry for anyone who isn't lucky enough to have a boyfriend like you," said Yao.

"I don't know if I'd be a good boyfriend for anyone else. I don't _want_ to be a boyfriend of any sort to anyone that isn't you," said Ivan.

Yao kissed Ivan's lips, gently and innocently at first, but soon he slipped his tongue into the Russian's mouth and wrapped his arms around his body. Without even thinking, they moved so that Yao was on his back and Ivan was straddling him, kissing him tenderly. It was amazing how they could go from innocently laying side by side to kissing passionately in the space of a few seconds.

Ivan could feel Yao's warm body beneath his, the smaller man's heart beating as their chests were pressed together. He was so beautiful, so alive, so real. Ivan still found it hard to believe that this gorgeous, funny, sweet person was really _his_. It didn't matter that he had lied to get him and lied to keep him, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

The telephone rang, causing Yao to throw back his head and let out a groan of annoyance.

"Is it just me, or do we get interrupted by a call every single time we do _anything_?" he asked.

"It seems like it, da," said Ivan, "do you want me to answer that?"

Yao shook his head.

"I'll get it," he said.

Ivan moved off of Yao so that the smaller man could get out of bed, and watched as he lazily wandered out of the room. Ivan could tell that Yao wasn't hugely bothered by the idea of the caller hanging up before he answered, but even so, the Russian heard Yao pick up the phone and begin talking to whoever was on the other end of the line, moving back toward the bedroom as he did.

"Yeah, Ivan's here too," Yao said as he came back into the bedroom, "I'll put the phone on speaker."

As he climbed onto the bed, Yao hit the speaker button on the phone.

"Privet!" said Ivan, cheerfully greeting whoever had called.

"Hi, Ivan. How are you?" asked the familiar voice of Yao's mother.

"I'm good, Chenguang. How are you?" asked Ivan.

"I'm also good. Sorry if I woke the two of you, you both sound a little tired," said Chenguang.

"No, we were both awake, though only just," said Yao, picking the phone up and putting it down between his pillow and Ivan's before lying back down.

"Oh, well I'm glad I didn't wake you. I was wondering if you'd like to see the rest of the family sometime. I know you've both met Kiku and Mei, but the others would quite like to see how you're doing, Yao, and I know they're all very interested in meeting Ivan," said Chenguang.

"That would be nice. I mean, I've seen photos and heard the stories you told us about them, and it would be nice to meet them in person," said Yao.

"Da, I am very interested in meeting Yao's family too," said Ivan.

"Oh, that's wonderful. Are the two of you free tonight? Maybe we could go out for dinner. I could try booking a table at Yao's favourite restaurant if the two of you are keen," said Chenguang.

"We don't have any plans tonight," said Ivan.

"Fantastic! I'll find out if the others are free too and call you back once I've got everything sorted," said Chenguang.

"Okay. And… mom?"

Ivan noticed how hesitant Yao seemed to use that word. It made sense, since he couldn't remember being raised by Chenguang, nor could he remember if that was even what he'd called her — maybe he'd called her _mum_ or _mama_ or referred to her by her first name.

"Yes, Yao?"

"I just want to thank you for being so kind about me and Ivan. I'm really glad that you're the sort of person who is accepting of me being in a relationship with another man," said Yao.

"Yao, I'm your mother, and I will always love you. _Always_. Besides, there is nothing wrong with what you're doing with Ivan, and from what I've seen, he seems like a really nice person. He's supportive of you and he treats you right, and that's all that matters. And if he's a man and you are too, then so what? Why should that mean that it's wrong for you to be together? It shouldn't, and it doesn't. You shouldn't be thanking me for accepting your sexuality, Yao, you should expect me to," said Chenguang.

"Still, it's really good that you do. Last week we had a run in with some kid on the street who wasn't so tolerant, and although it wasn't a pleasant experience, it wasn't too horrible because he was just some random kid who didn't matter. It would be awful if someone who actually mattered to me thought like that," said Yao.

"You know, Yao, I can't promise you that you won't have to go through something like that, but I can promise that I will always be there for you," said Chenguang.

"Yao is lucky to have a mother like you," said Ivan.

"I'm sure he's lucky to have a boyfriend like you too. Anyway, I'd best be going, but I might see the two of you tonight. Bye!" said Chenguang.

"Bye, mom," said Yao.

Ivan picked up the now silent phone and put it on the bedside table. He lay back down beside Yao and kissed the other man gently on the forehead.

"She's really nice. Chenguang, I mean. I'm glad that you have a mother like her," said Ivan.

"She is, isn't she? I'm happy that she likes you, even though I couldn't think why she wouldn't," said Yao.

Ivan grinned.

"Look at this perfect little life we've got ourselves here. We're happy together, and everyone is happy for us," he said.

"It would be perfect if it weren't for my—"

"Nyet, Yao. Despite your memory loss, our relationship is still beautiful, isn't it?" asked Ivan.

He hated it when Yao felt bad about his amnesia, not just because he hated seeing Yao upset, but because he was secretly glad that things had played out the way they did. At first Ivan had worried about how Yao would cope with his memory loss, that he would be scared and confused and miserable without being able to remember anything. However, Yao was doing great, and he seemed so _happy_. Before, well, Ivan didn't know if he had been happy before, but he had a feeling that Yao had been a little bit lonely. Lonely enough to sleep with a stranger, at least.

"Do you have any idea what my favourite restaurant was? I don't really know how I should dress," said Yao, sitting up in bed and unbuttoning his pyjama top.

"I think it might have been a Chinese restaurant of some sort, but I don't know," said Ivan.

It was just a guess, but considering that Yao was Chinese and seemed to be fond of cooking and eating Chinese food, it wasn't exactly a shot in the dark.

"I suppose I'll just wear whatever now and get changed before we go," said Yao, slipping out of his shirt, folding it and placing it on the pillow.

Ivan watched as Yao got out of bed, took off his pyjama pants and started looking through the dresser drawers for something to wear. Not only did the Russian love how Yao looked when he was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny, cotton, Hello Kitty print boxers, he also liked that Yao was comfortable wearing that little around him. He was sure that Yao knew how attractive he found that gorgeous body of his, and the fact that the smaller man was content to show it off to him surely meant _something_ trust-wise.

Ivan got out of bed and moved over to Yao, standing behind the smaller man as he pulled a t-shirt and pair of casual pants out of the chest of drawers. Ivan placed his hand on his boyfriend's thigh, casually moving his hand up to gently grope Yao's butt.

"You and your weird fascination with my ass," said Yao as he placed the clothes on the bed.

"I like your whole body, you know," said Ivan, trailing his fingers across Yao's chest.

"Well," said Yao, turning around to face Ivan, "I like yours. I'm just not so obvious about it."

He placed a soft kiss on the side of Ivan's neck and then began to dress.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this is the place?" asked Yao.<p>

It was seven o'clock, and he and Ivan were standing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant that they were to dine at. It was unmistakably the right one — with _The Golden Tiger_ written on the top of the building in a faux oriental font, it stood out from the typical American eateries that surrounded it.

"I'm sure it is. Chenguang said that it was called that and that it was here, so I'm sure it would be too big a coincidence for us to have stumbled onto the wrong street and found another restaurant with the exact same name," Ivan reassured him.

"I guess. I just thought that since this is my favourite restaurant, it might seem at least a little familiar," said Yao.

"Hey, it's okay. If you don't remember it, you'll be able to experience eating here for the first time all over again," said Ivan.

Yao nodded.

"Yeah. And of course this is the right place. Let's go inside," he said, taking Ivan's hand and walking through the front doors.

The first thing that Yao noticed about the restaurant's interior was the consistent use of the colour red. There was something about that colour that Yao loved, and even though it was _everywhere_, it wasn't as if it was too much of a good thing; it was beautiful.

"This place is amazing," Yao whispered to Ivan.

"I can see how it was your favourite," said Ivan, "and look, there's your family."

Yao looked in the direction that Ivan was pointing, and found that several familiar people were seated around a table in the corner of the room. Yao already knew his mother, Kiku and Mei through meeting them, but the others he recognised from the photo albums that he and Ivan had looked at when they had visited Chenguang.

Still holding Ivan's hand, Yao approached the table.

"Hi, sorry if we're late," he said.

"You're not late at all, we just got here early," said Chenguang.

Yao sat down in one of the empty seats between his mother and Kiku, and Ivan sat down in the other. Yao noticed that everyone was looking at him expectantly, and realised that he hadn't introduced Ivan to them yet.

"Uh, this is my boyfriend Ivan, for those of you who haven't met him," said Yao, glancing at Ivan.

Although there wasn't too strong a family resemblance between the others at the table due to the fact that very few of them were actually related, Ivan still stood with his pale hair and larger stature — his height wasn't too obvious while sitting, but he was still broad-shouldered and seemed almost pudgy wearing his thick coat. Yao's family, on the other hand, were all darkhaired and slender.

"I knew it!" cried the young man sitting directly across the table from Yao.

He was one of the foster children, the first one to join the family. Chenguang had told Yao this when they had gone over the photo albums. This particular brother was Korean, and Yao could not for the life of him remember his name.

"You knew what?" asked Xiang, Mei's twin and Yao's only blood-related brother.

Yao knew a little about Xiang not just through Chenguang, but from talking to Arthur. Apparently the boy had been struggling with a history project of some sort about the British Empire, and Yao had asked Arthur, an expert on all things British, to help tutor him. The Brit had warned Yao that although Xiang seemed quiet and reserved, he was actually quite a troublemaker.

"I knew that Yao was gay. I mean, it's kind of obvious now, but I thought of it first," said the Korean brother whose name Yao couldn't quite recall.

"Yeah right, Yong Soo. Like you could have thought of that without telling everybody," said Mei.

_Yong Soo_, that was his name. There was a touch of familiarity there, but only from being told about him, not through actual memories.

"You're just jealous you didn't realise when I did," retorted Yong Soo.

Kiku, who was sitting next to Yao, sighed.

"You would never guess that he is actually twenty-two," he said.

"They seem… interesting. I can imagine that there were very few dull moments growing up in this sort of household," said Yao.

Kiku nodded.

"Correct. It's unfortunate that you don't remember any of it, but I'm sure it will come back to you eventually," he said.

Yao got the feeling that of all his siblings, he had probably been closest to Kiku. There was, of course, their closeness in age, and Yao also found that despite the fact that his brother seemed quiet and a little inscrutable, he rather liked Kiku.

"They're not all like this, are they? I mean, she seems sensible," Yao gestured at the young woman sitting beside Mei, who he _thought_ was the Vietnamese foster daughter that Chenguang had mentioned, "and you're nice and quiet, and mom mentioned that there were a couple of others that didn't make it tonight."

"Kieu is definitely not as rowdy as some of the others," said Kiku, glancing at the girl.

Yao found it a little odd that one family would have both a son named Kiku and a daughter with the similar name of Kieu. Then again, they wouldn't have actually named Kieu, so it wasn't as strange as it seemed.

Yao glanced at Ivan, and found that the Russian had a huge grin on his face.

"What are you all smiles about, Ivan?" asked Yao.

"Your family is so lively and interesting, Yao," said Ivan.

"They are, though that's not necessarily a good thing," said Yao.

"I think it is. It's fun to watch them fighting playfully — it's entertaining, but you know that underneath, they still love each other," said Ivan.

"I guess so," said Yao.

A waiter approached the table, and Chenguang tried to hush the others.

"Guys, guys, can you at least try to act like normal human beings while in public?" she asked, and the twins and Yong Soo fell silent.

Yao was amazed at how his mother was able to quieten the raucous children (who were a little too old to be called _children_), but he supposed that she was used to dealing with them. He wondered if he too had those sorts of skills from being their eldest brother.

The waiter silently placed a menu in front of each person sitting at the table, and Yao started looking over his for something he wanted to order.

"Hey, Yao, it's the food I made for you earlier in the week," said Ivan, pointing at one of the options of Yao's menu.

Sure enough, spring onion savouries were one of the items on the menu.

"Well, I think I know what I'm getting. What about you, Ivan?" asked Yao.

"This one looks nice," said Ivan, pointing to a picture of a delectable-looking rice dish on Yao's menu, his own still unopened.

"You'll have to ask them to give you a fork or a spoon with that one. Yao says it hurts his soul when he sees his western friends misuse chopsticks," said Xiang, who was sitting across the table from Ivan.

"I'm sure it doesn't irk me that much," said Yao.

"It doesn't matter, I'd rather use the sort of cutlery I'm used to," said Ivan.

Yao gently took hold of Ivan's hand under the table, and the bigger man turned and kissed him on the cheek. Yao blushed lightly at that, knowing that the others' eyes were on him.

"So, Yao, how are you coping with your amnesia?" asked his stepfather, Satoru.

It was a question that Yao had been asked so many times. He could probably recite all of the variations of it if he tried — _how are you dealing with amnesia_,_ how are you coping with your memory loss_,_ are you okay even though you don't remember anything_?

"I'm coping well. I haven't remembered anything yet, but Gilbert—uh, Doctor Beilschmidt told me that that's normal. Ivan's been really sweet about it, and I don't know what I would have done without him," said Yao.

Satoru nodded. Yao had been told that his stepfather was a man of few words — he seemed rather like Kiku in that respect, and quite a contrast to Chenguang. He seemed nice, though.

The whole family did, despite their eccentricities. Although Chenguang had told him that it was something that he should expect, Yao was grateful that they didn't have a problem with his relationship with Ivan. He would have hated to have to choose between them.

* * *

><p>Everyone ordered, and eventually the food arrived. Yao's savouries were delicious — even better than the ones that Ivan had made, but considering that he had never cooked that sort of food before and this was a restaurant that specialised in it, it wasn't too surprising.<p>

Next to him, Ivan was talking to Chenguang. She was explaining to the Russian how fortune cookies didn't actually originate in China, and that she'd never seen them before moving to America. Yao knew that — not that Chenguang had never had any up until that point, but that they weren't Chinese. She had probably told him that, but although he remembered the fact itself, he didn't remember being told.

The others were talking amongst themselves — after being bombarded with questions for the first half of the meal, Yao's siblings' interest in his amnesia and boyfriend had waned a bit. Despite his condition, Yao wasn't exempt from a little light-hearted teasing from them, so he was quite enjoying being left alone for a moment.

Not far from the table, Yao spotted a waiter arguing animatedly with another customer — a young woman with hair dyed bright pink and a lit cigarette in her hand. He couldn't hear their conversation very well, but he presumed that the waiter was telling her that she couldn't smoke inside. Yao watched as the woman rolled her eyes and strutted angrily toward the back door, dropping her purse as she passed his table and stooping down to pick it up.

Yao wrinkled his nose as the smoke wafted toward the table, lingering even after the woman had picked her purse up and gone out the door. Closing his eyes, he noticed that the dual smells of Chinese food and cigarette smoke seemed oddly familiar. He could faintly remember smelling that exact scent before — it dredged up vague memories of a small, dark apartment, his mother's cooking, his father's cigarettes and his own tiny body being held in someone's strong arms.

There was nothing spectacular about the memory itself; but the fact that it was a memory was remarkable enough. Yao's eyes widened as he realised — he had remembered something, something about his life before the accident.

"Yao? Are you okay?" asked Ivan, noticing Yao's shocked expression.

"I _remember_," Yao whispered.

"You what?" asked Ivan.

"I remember something!" Yao said, louder this time, and suddenly the entire table's attention was focused on him.

"What did you remember, sweetie?" asked Chenguang.

"It wasn't much, but I remember living… or being, at least, in a tiny apartment type place, and I was just a kid. The smell of food and cigarette smoke, I remembered that. The woman who was just here, she was smoking and I think that triggered it," said Yao.

His hands were shaking and his carefully rolled up sleeves were coming undone. Actually remembering something, something from a long time ago and not just the past two weeks seemed so bizarre, so unreal.

"Yao, when you were tiny, you lived with your father and I in a very small apartment. We moved out of that place when you were four, so this must be a very old memory," said Chenguang.

Yao nodded.

"It feels like it was a long time ago," he said.

No matter how long ago it had been, he _remembered_ it, and that was all that mattered. It wasn't much, but it was a sign that his memories weren't lost forever.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**I finally introduced the rest of Yao's family. Kieu (not to be confused with Kiku; giving her a name so similar to his was probably not the best idea, but I really like the name) is Vietnam, by the way. She doesn't actually have an official human name, and although I've seen a lot of fics give her a French name (since Vietnam was a French colony for quite some time) I felt the need to give her a Vietnamese name – considering the lengths the people of Vietnam went to to gain independence from France, you'd think that the personification of the country wouldn't want a French name as a constant reminder of that time, and besides, the country existed for a long time before French colonization.**

**That seems like a lot of detail put into naming someone who doesn't even have a speaking role in the chapter, but who knows? She might have a more prominent role later.**

**Anyway, technically that wasn't Yao's _entire_ family; I mentioned that there were "others who couldn't make it" since there are probably other Asian countries that would consider Yao an older brother – Macau is one that comes to mind, but there may also be countries that haven't actually been introduced in Hetalia yet, so I'm leaving it at that.**

**As for Yao's memory – studies have shown there's a pretty big link between smells and memory, and since most new scents are encountered when one is fairly young, smells are usually more closely linked with childhood memories than later ones, thus it kind of makes sense that a trigger like that would dredge up a memory from so long ago.**

**I must say, I have learned quite a bit about memories and memory loss through researching this fic.**

**Finally, I just want to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited and story alerted _One Little Lie_ since the last chapter. I say that in practically every chapter, but that's because it never gets old or fails to make me happy.**


	13. Raise Your Glass

Yao didn't recover any more memories during the following week, but that didn't stop him from feeling hopeful. He and Gilbert finally sorted out a weekly appointment time — during Yao's lunch break on Wednesday. During his other lunch breaks, Ivan would often come in to the city if he wasn't busy and have lunch with him — sometimes just with Yao and sometimes with his group of friends. Yao liked that he got to see Ivan even though he was working, although he supposed that if Ivan got a job like he had said he would, they wouldn't be able to see each other during the day. That was really the only thing that worried Yao, and it wasn't weighing too heavy on his mind.

Ivan, on the other hand, was a more than a little worried. As great as it was that Yao had remembered something, if his memories were returning, it was only a matter of time before he realised that they had never been lovers. Still, it had been a small, inconsequential memory that had nothing to do with Ivan, and besides, if it had taken two weeks for Yao to recover one measly memory, then it wasn't like it was all going to come flooding back to him in an instant.

That was how Ivan reassured himself, at least. He didn't want to waste time stressing about Yao finding out the truth, especially not when that time could be better spent with Yao himself. It was fairly easy for Ivan to forget about his worries when he was with Yao. Just looking at the smaller man's pretty face made Ivan so very happy, and touching him, kissing him, holding him in his arms — well, that was even better. Although Yao wasn't quite so forward with physical affection in public, he would still hold Ivan's hand and accept his sweet, soft kisses.

Ivan turned to Yao, who was sitting beside him, and placed one of those gentle kisses on his forehead. They were at McDonald's with the rest of Yao's friends — the venue had been Alfred's choice, as they all took turns deciding where to eat, and could choose anywhere at all as long as it wasn't too far from the workplace. Ivan got the feeling that they all had _very_ different ideas of what constituted quality food, and apparently Alfred considered fast food to be the pinnacle of culinary delight. Ivan didn't mind too much — as long as he was with Yao, it didn't matter if he was eating an expensive delicacy from a five-star restaurant or chicken nuggets that Alfred kept stealing.

""You know, we should all go out somewhere tonight, show Yao and Ivan how hard we can party!" said Alfred.

"Not very hard, I'm afraid, and it's less partying and more sitting around and talking, like we did at Francis's place, but at a bar," said Arthur.

"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about, we always have a wild time. Like, we all went out a couple of weeks ago, and it was pretty epic," said Alfred.

"Yao left last time because everyone else was too drunk," said Francis.

"Actually, come to think of it, the last time we went out was the night before Yao's accident," said Arthur.

"You're right," said Francis, turning to Ivan, "and you were in the accident too, non?"

"Da," said Ivan.

He wasn't sure what Francis was getting at, but he hoped that the Frenchman hadn't cottoned on to something about Ivan's lies that didn't seem quite right.

"Well, then, it is obvious why Yao ditched us — he went home to make love to his boyfriend. Why else would they be together the next morning?" asked Francis.

The Frenchman looked pointedly at Yao, who Ivan could see was ever so faintly blushing.

"Anyway," said Francis, turning his gaze back to Ivan, "what is Yao like in bed? It's something I've always wondered."

"Well, he's _really_ good, and you'd never guess how—"

Before Ivan could finish, Yao clamped his hand over the Russian's mouth.

"I'd rather you didn't tell other people about sex I don't remember having," said Yao, letting go of Ivan.

"My lips are sealed," said Ivan, reaching for another piece of chicken and finding that there was none left.

"I wonder who ate all of those? Sure wasn't me," said Alfred, still chewing what Ivan assumed was the last of his chicken nuggets.

"You are a terrible liar. However, I wouldn't mind going out tonight, as long as Yao wants to," said Ivan.

"I wouldn't mind either," said Yao, resting his head on Ivan's shoulder.

"Nor would I — actually, there's a new pub in town that opened a few weeks ago, and apparently it's bloody good," said Arthur.

"Yeah, we could go there. What about you, Francis, you keen?" asked Alfred.

"I don't have any plans tonight, so oui, I will go," said Francis.

"Awesome, that's all of us," said Alfred.

"Eh? You didn't ask me if I wanted to come, which I do," said Matthew, who was sitting beside the loud American. Up until now he had been rather quiet, and Ivan had actually forgotten that he was there.

"Oh, sorry. _Now_ it's all of us, unless I've forgotten someone else," said Alfred.

"You haven't, but we need to start heading back to work about now if we don't want to be late," said Arthur, glancing at his watch.

"Good point, dude," said Alfred, hurriedly downing the last of his coke.

Yao lifted his head from Ivan's shoulder, turning to kiss his boyfriend on the lips.

"I'll see you after work," he said as he pulled away from Ivan.

"Bye bye, Yao," Ivan said, watching the smaller man smile and wave as he walked away.

The last thing the Russian saw before Yao walked out of the building was the longhaired man blowing him a kiss. God, he was beautiful, and the fact that Yao was so sweet to _him_ of all people made Ivan's heart beat wildly in his chest. Ivan had never thought that he would fall in love, but he had. He knew it would hurt like hell to lose Yao, which was a real possibility, but he hoped that the time they did get to spend together would be worth it.

Who was he kidding? Of course it was worth it. Every second he spent with Yao was worth it.

* * *

><p>Yao closed his eyes and leaned back on the computer chair, stretching his arms out behind him and jolting when his hand hit someone behind him. He mumbled an apology as he opened his eyes, realizing that the person he had touched was Ivan.<p>

"Ivan, what are you doing here?" asked Yao, spinning around in the chair to face his boyfriend.

"I came to pick you up from work," Ivan said as he reached for the armrest of the chair and began spinning Yao in a slow circle.

"It's only four fifty, I've still got another ten minutes before I can go," said Yao.

"Can't you leave early?" asked Ivan, sitting down with his back against the wall of the office cubicle.

"Not really, I've got to finish charting this campaign data," said Yao, putting his foot down on the floor to stop the chair from turning.

"Oh. Do you mind if I wait for you here? I'd rather be here with you than alone in the car," said Ivan.

"Of course, just try not to distract me, this is actually pretty important stuff I'm doing here," said Yao, turning back to the computer.

As he carried on with his work, Yao noticed Ivan edging closer to him. The Russian leaned against the desk and rested his head against Yao's knee, slowly closing his eyes. Even though Ivan wasn't being very good and not talking or distracting him, Yao couldn't concentrate on his spreadsheet with his boyfriend sitting there like that. Yao had to admit that Ivan's silver-blonde locks looked so soft and inviting, and he couldn't stop himself from gently running his fingers through the strands hanging down over the taller man's forehead.

Ivan opened his eyes, took Yao's hand in his own and gently kissed it.

"I don't think I'm going to get any work done, so I guess I can leave early," said Yao.

Ivan grinned.

"Yay! The sooner we get home, the more time we'll have together before we go out tonight," said Ivan.

"Do you have something special planned for tonight?" asked Yao, turning off the computer and getting up from his seat.

"Every moment I spend with you is special," Ivan said as he got up and followed Yao out of the cubicle, grabbing the smaller man's hand as he went.

"I feel the same way. You know, Ivan, even though I don't love you yet, I like you the most out of everyone I know. That's probably not a huge achievement since I don't remember anyone and I've hardly gotten to know anyone else, but I just thought you should know that," said Yao as they walked through the building hand in hand.

"That means a lot to me, Yao. I'm glad that I'm your favourite, because you're my favourite too," said Ivan.

"Thanks. But hey, how did you find me in here? Are visitors even allowed in this part of the building?" asked Yao.

"I have no idea, but probably not, and I found you through sheer luck," said Ivan as they stepped into the elevator.

Yao looked up at Ivan. He loved everything about the way the Russian looked, but his favourite thing was the colour of his eyes. Yao didn't know if he'd ever seen anyone else with purple eyes before he lost his memory, but Ivan was the only one he'd seen since. Those beautiful eyes were framed by lovely pale lashes, the same colour as his hair. Yao loved Ivan's hair too — not just the colour but everything about it.

As the elevator doors slid shut, Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan and kissed him, their lips softly brushing against each other's and Yao's tongue slipping inside the bigger man's mouth. Ivan kissed back, pushing Yao against the wall of the lift as it slowly began moving downwards. Yao pressed his own body against Ivan's and felt the Russian slowly grind his hips against Yao's.

When the elevator reached the bottom floor and the doors opened, Ivan let go of Yao, straightened his scarf and proceeded to walk out as if nothing unusual had taken place, turning back to beckon the panting, flustered Yao out of the lift.

"How do you do that?" Yao asked, his voice a whisper as he followed Ivan out of the building's lobby.

"Do what?" asked Ivan.

"Kiss me like that and regain composure so quickly," said Yao.

"Hmmm… I don't know. I could ask you how you manage to make it so obvious that you're aroused," said Ivan.

"I'm not aroused!" Yao said defensively as they rounded the corner onto the street where Ivan's car was parked.

A pedestrian who happened to be walking by gave Yao an odd look, causing his cheeks to turn pink.

"That probably wasn't the correct choice of words, but you know what I mean," Ivan said apologetically, unlocking the car and climbing into the driver's seat.

Yao got in through the passenger's side of the car, and placed a quick kiss on Ivan's forehead to show the Russian that he wasn't mad at him.

"You're gorgeous, Yao, so gorgeous," Ivan murmured.

Yao couldn't think of anything to say back — Ivan had probably heard _and you're such a charmer_ a thousand times before — and so he simply kissed him.

Yao didn't know how many times they'd kissed in the last three weeks, but it never got old. It was hard to believe that it had been nearly three weeks since the accident; Yao felt like he'd known Ivan for much longer. Technically, he _had_, but he didn't remember any of it. Still, it was amazing how close he felt to Ivan after three weeks of being together. Perhaps the fact that Yao had loved him before was at least part of the reason, but Yao was sure that no matter how close they had been before he lost his memories, he wouldn't like Ivan as much as he did if it weren't for the fact that the Russian was so lovely to him. How could Yao keep himself from falling for someone like that?

He would love Ivan, he knew he would. It wasn't just something that Yao told himself so he wouldn't feel guilty about Ivan loving him so much and not being able to reciprocate, he could tell that he was going to love this man.

* * *

><p>Alfred, Arthur, Francis and Matthew were already at the bar when Yao and Ivan arrived. It was a modern establishment, with a glass front and black and white colour scheme.<p>

"Hey, you guys made it!" said Alfred as Ivan and Yao sat down at the table with the others.

"Sorry that we're late, I made dinner and by the time it was ready, it was time to go, but I didn't want it to go to waste," said Yao.

"Yao is such a good cook, but I have a feeling I'm going to put on a lot of weight through living with him," said Ivan.

"Yeah, we've all had Yao's food before, you're lucky you get to eat it all the time," said Alfred.

"Yao and Francis are definitely the best cooks out of all of us. I'm okay, Alfred probably could be too of he wanted to make anything other than burgers, and Arthur is… uh…" Matthew trailed off as he noticed the green-eyed Brit glaring at him.

"I am perfectly fine at cooking, thank you very much," he said indignantly.

"It's not your fault, Arthur, you just have terribly warped taste buds," said Francis.

"I don't want to make a scene, so I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. So, Ivan, are you going to get something to drink?" asked Arthur.

"He will. I called last week to ask him if he did," said Alfred.

"You do realise he was drinking vodka at Francis's place, right?" asked Yao.

"Oh. I guess that kinda slipped my mind," said Alfred.

"Yao, do you want something?" asked Ivan.

"I won't have any alcohol, but if you can get me a glass of lemonade, that would be nice," said Yao.

"Okay," said Ivan, kissing Yao on the forehead before getting up and going to the bar to order a drink.

Ivan leaned against the counter and waited for the bartender to notice him. When the darkhaired man manning the bar turned around, Ivan was surprised to find himself looking at a face that he recognised — a man whom he had worked with at Novikov's bar. The man seemed a remember him too, as he grinned broadly at Ivan, grabbing his hand and giving it a rough shake.

"Ivan Braginsky! I have not seen you in such a long time. You drinkin' alone again?" asked the man.

"Nyet, I'm here with my boyfriend and his friends," said Ivan, gesturing at the table where Yao and the others were sitting.

"You've got a boyfriend now? Good on ya, which one is he?" asked the bartender, whose name Ivan was trying and failing to remember.

"You see the pretty one with the long dark hair? That's my Yao," said Ivan. He loved introducing Yao to people as _his_ Yao, _his_ boyfriend. It wasn't a show of possessiveness — Yao was his and he was Yao's.

"He's quite a looker," said the bartender.

Ivan nodded.

"He's also really nice and sweet and smart and he has a good sense of humour and he's good at cooking. Yao is the best boyfriend ever," said Ivan.

The bartender looked a surprised; Ivan doubted that the man had ever seen the tall Russian so happy.

"Well, you're a lucky man, then. He seems to make you happy, and it suits you," said the bartender, "anyway, what can I get for you?"

"A bottle of vodka and a glass of lemonade," said Ivan.

"You still drink straight vodka? Man, you are one crazy Russian," said the bartender, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet behind the bar.

"That's how I like it," said Ivan, smiling as the bartender filled one glass with lemonade, leaving the other empty and placing a bottle of vodka on the bar beside it.

"I take it you want a second glass to put that shit in," said the bartender.

"Da, thanks," said Ivan, taking a hundred dollar note out of his wallet and placing it on the counter, "keep the change."

"That's a lot of—"

"It is customary to tip in America, da? That is your tip," said Ivan, gathering up the glasses and the bottle and walking back to the table.

"You seemed quite chatty with the bartender," Arthur commented as Ivan sat down.

"Is he a friend of yours?" asked Yao, taking a sip from the glass of lemonade that Ivan put down in front of him.

"Not a friend, exactly, just someone I used to know," said Ivan.

"Hey, Ivan, could I try some of your vodka? I'm kind of curious as to what this drink you love so much tastes like," said Yao.

"Da, of course you can try some. Have as much as you want, Yao," said Ivan, pouring some of the clear liquid into his empty glass.

Yao picked up the glass, took a sip, and screwed his face up.

"Ugh, that tastes foul. How can you like it?" he asked.

"Hmmm, I guess I'm just used to it. It's okay that you don't like it, though — that means more for me!" said Ivan, watching Yao as he downed nearly half of his drink to get the taste of vodka out of his mouth.

Ivan kissed Yao on the lips as the smaller man lazily draped his arm over the Russian's shoulder.

"You don't mind tasting vodka when you kiss me, do you?" asked Ivan.

"You haven't had any yet, but… the other times I've tasted it on your lips, I didn't really mind," said Yao.

"So, Yao, I noticed you left work early today," said Arthur.

"Ivan was kind of distracting me, and I kind of let him," said Yao.

Ivan thought back on how lovingly Yao had been looking at him when he'd been sitting beside him as he worked. He'd tried to be as little of a nuisance as possible so that Yao could finish his charts or whatever it was he had been doing, but it seemed that Ivan's very presence was a distraction for him. Ivan liked that Yao hadn't been able to resist reaching out and softly touching his hair. He wondered if Yao felt the same way about his hair as Ivan felt about Yao's long, silky locks. Probably not, since Ivan's hair couldn't hold a candle to Yao's tresses, but it was still a nice thought.

Ivan started on his drink as the others began to argue about something. They were always arguing, Ivan had found — either Alfred would say something stupid or Francis would say something suggestive that would set Arthur off, and then all hell would break loose. Matthew mostly stayed quiet during these disagreements, but lately Yao had been taking part — at first he had seemed a little out of his element with these friends who knew him but who he didn't know, but it turned out that when he wanted to, he could be quite cutting and clever.

Ivan liked watching Yao and his friends argue. He knew that deep down, they liked each other a lot, so he could watch them fight and be entertained without worrying about any of them getting hurt, physically or otherwise. At first Ivan hadn't liked it when the others took jabs at Yao, but the Chinese man could hold his own.

Ivan downed the last of his drink and poured himself another. He wondered how long it would take for Yao's silly friends to get as drunk as they were on the night that he met the smaller man. Evidently his friends had been pretty far gone, since none of them remembered Ivan from that night, which was good as it saved him the trouble of coming up with a story about why he and Yao had decided to meet in a public place back when their relationship had been a secret.

It wasn't easy to keep Yao from finding out the truth, but the fact that the smaller man trusted Ivan helped a lot. Then again, nobody would expect that the man who said he was their boyfriend would be anything but what he said he was. That sort of suspicion wouldn't occur to most people at all, and Ivan was so glad that it hadn't occurred to Yao.

"Alfred, how are you even drinking?" Ivan asked, ending his silence.

Although Ivan would often just watch them without saying a word, they never forgot he was there like they did with Matthew.

"With my mouth. What kind of question is that?" said Alfred.

"But you say you are nineteen, da? The drinking age is twenty one," said Ivan.

"Bollocks, it's eighteen," said Arthur, who already seemed a little tipsy. Even when sober, the self-proclaimed gentleman had the foulest mouth out of the group.

"No, dude, it actually is twenty one, I just have a fake ID," said Alfred, lowering his voice so none of the staff could hear.

"What? Why? You should be able to drink alcohol at eighteen if that's when you're considered old enough to get married and vote and join the army, or do you have to be twenty one to do those too on the United States?" asked Arthur.

"No, you can do those other things at eighteen, just not drink, unless you think of a way around it like Alfred did," said Francis.

"That's bloody stupid, then," said Arthur, "America is a bizarre country."

"No, you guys are the ones that are from bizarre countries," said Alfred.

"China isn't bizarre," Yao said defensively, "it has more people than any other country, so technically the Chinese way of doing things is the most common way in the world, and therefore the least bizarre."

"You don't even remember being in China, and besides, I never said there was anything wrong with being bizarre," said Alfred, "everyone's a little bit weird, and the six of us are especially so — except maybe Ivan, I don't really know you so I don't know how normal you are."

"I'm pretty strange," Ivan said, not offering a reason as there weren't many that painted him in a good light.

"Okay, we _are_ all bloody weirdos, I'll give us that," said Arthur.

"I propose a toast," said Francis, raising his glass of wine, "to us _bloody weirdos_!"

The six glasses clinked together over the table, and Yao turned to Ivan and gave him a quick but passionate kiss before throwing back his drink.

Ivan supposed that perhaps he was one of them now — part of Yao's group of friends. Although he liked the idea of having friends, it also meant that there were more people he could lose the respect and friendship if they learned that he had been lying to Yao the whole time. Perhaps Yao could forgive him, there was a chance that the smaller man would accept his apologies and explanations and love, but would Yao's friends and family think the same way?

Ivan pushed that idea out of his mind. He was having a good night out with Yao and his friends, he wouldn't allow himself to ruin it with thoughts like that. Ivan closed his eyes, leaned his head against Yao's shoulder and breathed in his boyfriend's scent for a second, indulging in Yao's warmth for the shortest of moments before straightening up and grabbing his drink.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**The drinking age in the United States actually is 21, whereas in most countries it's 18. Interestingly enough, Alfred/America's canon "human age" is given as 19, which means that technically he's not legally allowed to drink in his own country.**


	14. Bad Kids

"_What are you drawing?" asked Yao, trying to peer over Kiku's shoulder at the piece of paper that the Japanese boy was doodling on._

_Kiku moved his arm so that his long, loose sleeve covered the picture._

"_It's not finished yet," he said quietly, "you're not allowed to see it until it's finished."_

_Yao pouted, looking away from Kiku and staring blankly at the first thing that caught his attention, which happened to be the glass sliding door that lead from the back porch to the dining room. At least, it used to be glass — most of it was gone on account of it having been smashed no more than an hour ago._

_Their next door neighbour, Mrs McGillicuddy, had been visiting, and she had brought along her dog, a friendly but not very clever chocolate labrador. While Chenguang and Mrs McGillicuddy sat inside and chatted, Yao and Kiku had been playing fetch with the dog in the backyard. Kiku hadn't been paying very much attention to where he was throwing the tennis ball that they had been throwing for the dog, and chucked it directly at the porch door. The dog ran after it, and crashed straight through the glass and into the house._

_Chenguang had gone into town to find a window repairman, and had instructed Mrs McGillicuddy to watch over the two ten-year-old boys and the twin toddlers who were sleeping upstairs. Despite Yao trying to explain that they were both quiet and well-behaved children, Mrs McGillicuddy had said that he and Kiku should stay out of the house so that they wouldn't wake Xiang and Mei — the incident with the dog and the window evidently hadn't left a good impression on their next door neighbour._

"_I'm going to go and grab some pencils and paper from inside," said Yao, getting up from the picnic table where he and Kiku were sitting._

_Kiku shook his head._

"_Mrs McGillicuddy said we have to stay out here," he said._

"_You're not scared of her, are you?" asked Yao._

_Kiku shook his head. Yao was inclined to believe him, but then again, it was never easy to tell what his stepbrother was thinking. Still, Yao adored his younger brother — despite the fact that Yao was only older by a couple of months, his was definitely the role of the elder brother._

_They had met and started getting to know each other when Yao's mother and Kiku's father had started dating. Yao had been learning English for longer, and so he had tried helping Kiku get a better grasp of the language. Although it had been a little difficult seeing as they didn't have the same first language, Kiku was a good learner, and Yao was quite a good teacher. That had cemented their roles as the older and younger brothers before they were brothers and before they were even aware of which one was the eldest._

_"Then you should come inside with me. If you're on lookout, she won't find us," said Yao._

_Kiku reluctantly got up and followed Yao toward what was left of their back door._

_Getting inside was easy, as they didn't have to worry about disturbing Mrs McGillicuddy with the sound of opening and closing the door. Being careful not to step on any of the stray shards of glass that Chenguang had missed when she had cleaned up, Yao crept across the dining room to the bottom of the stairs, tightly clasping Kiku's hand as he went. He carefully peered through the living room doorway, which was located at the base of the staircase, and saw that Mrs McGillicuddy was sitting on the sofa. For a moment Yao worried that she had seen him, but a second look revealed that she was actually asleep — her head lolled back and her glasses were resting on the couch armrest instead of their usual position on her face._

_"Kiku, you stay here and keep watch. If she wakes up… you think of something to do if she wakes up," whispered Yao._

_Kiku nodded, and Yao let go of his hand and began to climb the stairs as slowly as he possibly could, being careful not to step on any of the stairs that creaked. _

_It wasn't as if he was going to lose anything by playing this game; if Mrs McGillicuddy did wake up and find them in the house even though she had told them to stay outside, the worst she could do was give them a stern talking to and then tell Chenguang about it when she got home — Yao doubted that his mother would mind too much at all._

_When he got to the top of the stairs, Yao crept into his parents' room, where the computer was located, and grabbed a dozen sheets of paper out of the printer. Still clutching the paper against his chest, he went into the room that he and Kiku shared and grabbed his school pencil case from the desk._

_Yao quietly descended the stairs and held the paper and pencil case out for Kiku to take._

_"Hey Kiku," said Yao, heading towards the door, "I'm going to look at your picture!"_

_Kiku's eyes widened and he lunged forward to grab Yao before the elder brother could get outside and run over to the picnic table where his half-finished drawing was still sitting. Yao stumbled and fell, his back scraping against the jagged glass of the door, the sharp edges tearing through his shirt and into his skin._

_Yao screamed and fell to the ground, barely even noticing the impact of his body against the porch over the searing pain of his back. He could hear Kiku yelling, Mrs McGillicuddy yelling and one of the twins crying as his own screams turned into violent sobs. Hot, wet tears were streaming down his face, not unlike the blood seeping out of the wound on his back. Above everything else, Yao could feel the pain of his torn and bloody back, drowning out everything else that he could feel and see and hear. He could feel himself growing faint — whether it was from the pain or from blood loss, he didn't know._

_The last thing that Yao felt before passing out was someone else's hair tickling the side of his face, as if they were leaning down to whisper in his ear. His eyes were squeezed shut and he couldn't find the will to lift his head, but Yao knew that it was Kiku's jet black bangs brushing against the side of his face, even before he spoke._

_Yao was too far gone to properly make out what his brother said, but he was almost certain that it was "sorry."_

* * *

><p>"Ivan!" Yao cried excitedly, his voice reaching the Russian's ears before his slender frame slipped through the door and into the bigger man's line of sight.<p>

"What is it, Yao?" asked Ivan.

He wasn't worried about whatever it was Yao was going to tell him; he could see that his boyfriend was smiling, looking so angelic as he rushed toward him, as graceful as ever. Yao hadn't stumbled upon Ivan's secret, so there was no need to fear whatever it was that Yao was going to say.

"I remembered something while I was at work today — it wasn't vague like what I remembered at the restaurant, it was a proper memory," said Yao.

Ivan grinned. He shouldn't be glad that Yao was remembering things, but he couldn't help smiling — Yao looked so happy, and Ivan struggled to think of anything better than seeing the man he loved looking so gleeful.

"What did you remember?" he asked, putting down the feather duster he was holding — Ivan had been cleaning when Yao arrived home from work — and wrapping his arms around the smaller man.

"When I was ten years old, Kiku pushed me and I fell against the broken glass door. It tore up the skin on my back and left the scar that I still have today," said Yao.

"That doesn't seem like a memory to be so happy about," said Ivan, furrowing his brow.

The idea of Yao's skin being torn open by jagged fragments of glass sickened Ivan. He was never one to feel sick at the sight of blood or gruesome wounds, but just thinking about Yao bleeding and broken and in so much pain horrified him. Yao was so precious to Ivan, and he couldn't stand the thought of him hurting like that, even if it had happened long before they knew each other.

"I'm not happy because it happened, I'm happy because I remember it. I actually have a memory from my past — a proper memory. Obviously it's not as clear as my memories of these past weeks, but that's how memories from so long ago are, right?" asked Yao.

Ivan nodded. He thought of the memories that he had from when he was ten — bad ones of being teased and ridiculed at school, but also good ones of his mother and father being alive and well, of Natalia being a little girl who adored her brother in a way that wasn't creepy at all, of Anastasiya getting to relax and just be a teenager without having to worry about working and looking after the family. It wasn't really far that Yao didn't get to remember spending time with his family as a child, and Ivan almost felt happy that Yao was getting his memories back.

_Almost_. There was still the fact that he might remember that Ivan wasn't his boyfriend. It wasn't likely to happen straight away — after all, Yao had twenty six years worth of memories hidden away inside his head somewhere, the chances of his next recovered memory being something from the past year that made it abundantly clear that their relationship had never happened were relatively slim. However, he would eventually remember something like that.

Ivan pushed that thought out of his mind. It was easy to forget about his troubles when he was with Yao. The smaller man's presence was addictive — when he was with Yao, Ivan could focus so easily on what they were doing together without being distracted by his thoughts. When they weren't together, Ivan found himself thinking about Yao.

He wished that he could spend every second of the day with Yao, but the time that they spent together was good enough. It was more than good enough, it was amazing.

Yao giggled, and Ivan gave him a quizzical look.

"Remember when we were talking about how if I went to work and you stayed home all day, you'd probably spend your time cleaning with a feather duster while wearing a sexy apron? Well, it looks like you're halfway there already," said Yao, pointing at the green duster that Ivan had left on the shelf above the television.

Ivan picked up the feather duster.

"Hey Yao, are you ticklish?" he asked, trying and failing to keep himself from grinning.

"I don't remember," said Yao, looking warily at the duster.

"Well then, let's find out," said Ivan, gently tickling Yao's cheek with the feather duster.

Yao laughed, half-heartedly swatting at the duster to get it away from him, despite it being obvious that he didn't mind it.

Ivan pulled Yao's shirt up and tickled the Chinese man's flat belly with his own gloved fingers. Yao kept giggling, clasping one hand over his mouth ad trying to pull his shirt back down with the other.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist. Hug?" asked Ivan.

Yao didn't hesitate when he saw Ivan's open arms waiting for him, and he was soon caught in a warm, comfortable embrace. Ivan was too busy enjoying the feeling of the smaller man's body against his to notice Yao deviously snatching the feather duster out of his hand.

"Ha, now I have the feather duster," said Yao, triumphantly holding it up, "Ivan, are _you_ ticklish? I bet you are. Your neck especially, since you keep it covered by that scarf all the time."

"I don't think you want to do that," said Ivan, stepping back from Yao until he reached the sofa and could back away no longer.

"I think I do," said Yao, advancing toward him and grabbing at his scarf.

Ivan fell onto the sofa, and Yao climbed on top of him so there was no way for him to escape. Not that he wanted to, of course — he liked the way Yao was pinning him down between his legs.

Yao tugged at Ivan's scarf until it came off, and then gently tickled the Russian's neck with the duster. Try as he might, Ivan couldn't help but react.

Truth be told, Ivan was a little embarrassed about his laugh. A man — especially a big, strong, masculine one like himself — should have a deep, hearty laugh, and although Ivan was usually able to laugh in a dignified manner, when he lost control he always let out a childish giggle. Tickling was something that made him lose control, and Yao had guessed correctly about his neck being a ticklish spot.

Yao couldn't help but bursting into laughter when he heard Ivan's childish laugh.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't, but… that was kind of adorable," he said.

Yao moved so that he was lying next to Ivan instead of straddling him, cuddling up close on the small couch.

"You're the adorable one," said Ivan, kissing Yao's forehead.

"Hey, you're pretty cute yourself. What about that photo of you when you were a kid, huh? You can't deny that that's adorable," said Yao.

"Most kids are cute, but you're still gorgeous. Chenguang showed us all those photos of you as a toddler and child, and so I know that you used to be a cute kid, and now you're a cute twenty-six year old," said Ivan.

Yao laid his head on Ivan's chest, and after a moment he took hold of the Russian's hand.

"Tell me a story about when you were a little kid. It can be anything, I just want to hear one of your memories," said Yao.

Ivan stopped to think for a moment.

"Okay, I think I've got one," he said once he had decided.

"What is it?" asked Yao, looking curiously at him.

"When I was a little kid, maybe four or five years old, I really wanted a puppy. I begged my parents to buy me one, and they said that a dog cost a lot of money and took a lot of work to look after, but as a compromise, they said that they would buy me a… honestly, I can't remember if it was a guinea pig or a gerbil or a hamster, but it was something like that. I was really excited about it, and by the time we went to the pet store to buy it, I'd already thought of the perfect name — Zhenya," said Ivan.

"Aww, that's such a sweet story," said Yao, but the story was not yet finished.

"The store had one last… whatever animal it was, and the woman who worked there took it out of its little cage and let me hold it, but it bit my hand and I burst into tears. When I'd calmed down enough to speak, I told my parents that I didn't want a pet any more," said Ivan.

"You poor thing," said Yao.

He kissed Ivan gently on the lips before getting up off of the sofa.

"I'll start making dinner," he said, handing Ivan his scarf.

"Do you need any help with it?" asked Ivan.

"No, I can handle it," said Yao, bending down to kiss Ivan again before heading into the kitchen.

The main area of the house was very open, so Ivan could see through the dining room and into the kitchen while lying on the living room sofa. He was able to watch Yao as the smaller man made dinner — there was an unspoken agreement that he was the one who cooked. Ivan doubted that Yao minded, as the Chinese man seemed to enjoy cooking. Besides, he had told Ivan before the accident that his dream was to run his own restaurant. He seemed to like his current job, though.

Yao had finally collected insurance on his car, and although he hadn't gotten around to buying a new one yet, he usually took a bus into the city for work, and Ivan let him use his car on days when he didn't need it himself.

Ivan hadn't gotten himself a job, but he was sure that if he looked for one, he would find one soon enough. That would be their life — Ivan would get a job, Yao would get a car, they would continue living together and they would fall in love. It sounded unremarkable, the ordinary sort of domestic life that millions of other people had, but to Ivan, it was beautiful. He couldn't think of any life he'd rather be leading than one that involved living with and loving Yao.

He hoped that it would last.

* * *

><p>It was cold outside, but Yao was bundled up in Ivan's coat and so he wasn't bothered by the chilly air. Even so, Ivan seemed to think that Yao needed warming up, not that he minded.<p>

"You look like you need this," said Ivan, looping his scarf around Yao's neck as well as his own so that they were sharing that as well as the coat.

"Thanks," said Yao, resting his head on Ivan's shoulder.

He wasn't entirely sure why they were sitting outside, but he enjoyed spending time with Ivan no matter where they were. The Russian loved the sunflowers that were growing in the back garden, and Yao found his affinity for the flowers to be rather cute.

The phone began ringing, and Yao let out a sigh.

"We get so many calls," he said.

"Do you want me to answer it?" asked Ivan.

Yao shook his head.

"I'll get it," he said, slipping out of the scarf and coat and walking into the house.

"Hi, Yao speaking. Who is this?" he asked after picking up the phone.

"_Yao, it's me, your father_," the caller said in Chinese.

Yao gasped. Chenguang had said that his father sometimes called him, but he hadn't given it much thought, nor had he been expecting a call.

"_I'm so sorry, I don't remember you_," said Yao.

"_What do you mean by that_?" asked his father.

Hadn't he been told about the amnesia? Yao knew that his father never spoke to Chenguang, but he had assumed that he was at least in contact with the twins — they were his children, after all.

"_I was in a car accident a few weeks ago, and I don't remember much before that_," said Yao. It was a bit of an understatement; with the exception of two memories, he didn't remember anything at all.

"_That's terrible, and I'm sorry I didn't call earlier. How are you coping_?" asked Yao's father.

"_I'm actually coping pretty well. I'm seeing a good psychiatrist, and my friends and family are very supportive_," said Yao.

"_That's good_," said Yao's father, "_I was about to ask you if anything else new had happened since the last time we spoke, but then I realised that you wouldn't remember it._"

"_That's fine, I understand that my memory loss is confusing for other people as well as me. There is one other thing that I probably hadn't told you_," said Yao, looking out of the kitchen window at Ivan, who was sitting by himself on the back steps.

"_What is it, Yao_?" asked his father.

"_I have a boyfriend_," said Yao.

Yao heard his father sigh over the telephone.

"_You've been speaking English so long that you can't remember simple Chinese. You mean girlfriend, of course_," said his father.

"_No, I meant exactly what I said. I have a boyfriend, his name is Ivan and he's_—"

Before Yao could even finish his sentence, the call abruptly ended. Yao's heart sank as he realised just what had happened — his own father had simply hung up on him upon learning that his son had a boyfriend. Although he immediately tried to think of reasons that it might have been a mistake (perhaps he really was a little rusty with his Chinese and had accidentally said something that actually was offensive), Yao knew that it was exactly as it seemed, and even though he didn't remember his father, it still hurt.

Yao remembered what Alfred had said at the fair — _those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind_. It wasn't entirely true, though; while the boy that had hurled insults at them that day in town had been a nobody who didn't matter, Yao couldn't help feeling hurt and rejected.

"Yao, are you okay? Who was on the phone?" asked Ivan.

Yao looked up, surprised; he hadn't even noticed the bigger man coming inside.

"My father. I told him about you and he hung up on me," he said.

"Perhaps he hit the wrong button and he's going to call back and apologise any second now," said Ivan.

"No, he hung up because he didn't want to talk to me," said Yao, a little more aggressively than he intended. "I'm sorry, you were just trying to make me feel better, I shouldn't have—"

"It's okay. You're upset, and you have every right to be," said Ivan, gently placing his hand on top of Yao's.

"I'm going to go to bed," said Yao.

He glanced at the clock and found that it wasn't quite half past nine, probably too early to go to bed, but he didn't really care. Yao gave Ivan a quick kiss on the cheek and headed for the bedroom, where he quickly changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed, all the while wondering what his father was thinking right now — did he feel disgusted, guilty about how he ha reacted or was he simply not giving his son a second thought?

Yao closed his eyes and tried not to think about it. He wasn't doing anything wrong, and he shouldn't have to feel so miserable.

_Sleep_. That was really all Yao could do. He would go to sleep, and in the morning he would hopefully feel better.

* * *

><p>Ivan opened the bedroom door, carefully and quietly as not to wake Yao. It had been an hour since Yao had gone to bed, and Ivan hoped that the smaller man was fast asleep, in a dream world where he wouldn't be troubled by his father or woken by Ivan coming into the room, undressing and climbing into bed as silently as he could.<p>

Although Yao usually looked so serene and calm as he slept, tonight he was restless. Ivan could feel the bed move and the blanket shift as the body next to him tossed and turned.

"Yao, are you awake?" Ivan asked, thinking that surely someone who was moving around so much couldn't be asleep.

There was no reply, and Ivan supposed that Yao really was asleep. He reached out to wrap his arms around the smaller man, and it didn't take long for Yao to stop fidgeting.

One of Ivan's arms was underneath Yao's pillow, and he noticed that the part of the pillowcase that was touching his skin was damp. It was as if Yao had been crying and had flipped the pillow over once his eyes were dry so that he wouldn't have to sleep with head on the wet patch.

Ivan pulled Yao closer and gently kissed him on the cheek. Ivan had waited a while to go to bed because Yao had seemed like he wanted to be alone, but now he wished he had been there so that Yao wouldn't have had to cry himself to sleep alone.

Ivan hated Yao's father for making him feel so terrible. He remembered how the smaller man had comforted him after the rude boy from town had yelled obscene things at him. Ivan had thought that Yao was so strong and resilient — and he _was_, but that didn't mean that he couldn't get hurt. Ivan wished that he knew how to comfort Yao, but he doubted that anything he could say would make him feel better about what his father had done. Chenguang had told them that the main reason that Yao's father hadn't left the country with her was because he didn't want to leave his successful business in China. Ivan knew that he shouldn't really expect better from a man who had chosen his career over his wife, son and unborn twins, but he still thought that what Yao's father had done was completely out of line.

"I love you so much, Yao," Ivan whispered.

Still asleep, Yao snuggled close to Ivan and pressed his head against the bigger man's chest.

"Ivan," he murmured.

Ivan grinned.

"Saying my name in your sleep, are you?" he asked, gently stroking Yao's hair.

"I'm not asleep," said Yao.

"Oh. Are you feeling okay?" asked Ivan.

"I'm fine. I've got you, haven't I? Why wouldn't I be?" asked Yao.

"You seemed upset before, and the pillow is wet, like you'd been crying," said Ivan.

"I wasn't crying, I just drooled on the pillow," said Yao.

"Oh," said Ivan.

He felt a little silly for jumping to conclusions, but he couldn't help worrying about Yao.

"I'm okay, I just needed to sleep," said Yao.

"Of course. Sleep is good," Ivan whispered, gently rubbing his hand up and down Yao's back.

"Mmm. Goodnight, Ivan," he murmured. He sounded adorably sleepy.

"Goodnight, my beautiful Yao," Ivan whispered.

Of course, even if Yao hadn't been crying and was feeling fine now, that didn't change what had happened. It didn't change the hurt look that Ivan had seen on Yao's face when he walked into the kitchen and found him standing there, holding the phone. Ivan wished the he could protect Yao from things like that, but he couldn't. All he could do was hold him and love him and help him to feel better, and hope that that was enough.

* * *

><p><strong>Entire paragraphs of narration in italics are memories.<strong>

**Dialogue in italics shows that it is being spoken in a foreign language — I chose to do that for Yao's conversation in Chinese with his father because I don't speak Chinese, and even if Google Translate was always one hundred percent accurate (which it totally isn't), having to copy and paste foreign words into the translator every couple of sentences isn't particularly fun for the reader**


	15. In the Arms of Rain

"I remembered something," said Yao, looking up from his cup of tea as Ivan walked out of the bedroom.

It was a quarter past eight in the morning, and while Yao was usually up at this hour, having breakfast and getting ready to go into town, it wasn't often that Ivan was out of bed before his boyfriend left for work.

"What did you remember?" asked Ivan, walking over to the table where Yao was sitting.

It took Yao a moment to register what Ivan had asked him, as he was too distracted by the Russian's appearance — his silver-blonde sleep tousled hair and pale, muscular body. He was wearing the black satin boxers that he had slept in and nothing else, and Yao couldn't help himself from looking a little too long at all of that exposed flesh.

"Yao? Were you going to tell me what you remembered?" asked Ivan.

Even though Ivan clearly didn't mind that he'd caught Yao checking him out, the smaller man couldn't help but feel a little self conscious about it.

"Of course, the memory. It wasn't much, really, but I remember being a teenager and having one of those portable CD players, and I was listening to it in the bath and trying my hardest not to sink too low into the water because I didn't want to get the headphones wet," said Yao.

Ivan laughed.

"That would be the most recent memory you've recovered, wouldn't it? The others have all been from your childhood," he commented.

Yao nodded. As well as his vague first memory and the one concerning his scar, he had recovered a handful of other memories from his childhood. The one that he had recovered that morning was, he thought, from when he was around sixteen or seventeen.

"Yeah, you're right. Maybe I'll start remembering you soon," said Yao.

Ivan reached across the table and took hold of Yao's hand.

"Even if you don't, you don't have to worry. Courting you and trying to get you to fall for me again is fun, and you seem to be enjoying it too," said Ivan.

"I love that you do such lovely things for me, but it's not fair that you have to win me over twice," said Yao.

"I don't mind, really, and even if I did, it's not your fault. Besides, I like trying to win your heart. The first time around, our relationship started off as purely sexual, but this is a lot more romantic, and I like that," said Ivan.

Yao smiled. Ivan was so sweet to him, and he supposed that if the Russian was able to enjoy what had become of their relationship, then he shouldn't be complaining about it, especially not when he himself enjoyed every second that the two of them spent together.

"I don't want to go to work, I just want to climb back into bed and stay there with you for the rest of the morning," Yao said wistfully.

"Do it. Call your work and say that you're feeling sick today and you can't come in," suggested Ivan.

"I can't do that," said Yao.

"You can. They'll never know that you're faking it," said Ivan.

Yao thought about it for a moment. He enjoyed his job, but he would enjoy spending the day at home with Ivan even more, and he just couldn't say no to his boyfriend when what he was suggesting was such a good idea.

"Fine, but only this one time," said Yao.

"Yay!" said Ivan, getting up and moving over to the other side of the table, where he picked Yao up and began carrying the smaller man bridal style towards the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" asked Yao, looping his arms around Ivan's neck.

Ivan was strong — strong enough to lift and carry a grown man, albeit a rather petite one — but so was Yao, and if he wanted to be put down, he could make it so. He didn't really mind that Ivan was carrying him, and so he simply held on tight to the taller man.

"If you're sick, you need to go back to bed!" said Ivan, gently setting Yao down on the bed.

"I need to call work first," said Yao.

"Nyet, you can do that later. First you need to get nice and comfy," Ivan said as he began unbuttoning Yao's shirt.

Yao lay back and looked up at Ivan as the bigger man finished unbuttoning the garment and slipped it off of him.

"Do you want this?" asked Ivan, holding up the Hello Kitty shirt that Yao often slept in, which had been laying discarded on the bed.

"Maybe," said Yao, taking the t-shirt from Ivan, "or maybe I like the way you look at me without it."

"That's because I like the way you look without it," Ivan said, unbuckling Yao's belt, "though I like the way you look no matter what you're wearing. You're always beautiful."

"Thanks, but I can do that myself," said Yao, pushing Ivan's hand away. He felt a little bad that he couldn't stop himself from thinking about the dirty implications of his boyfriend helping him out of his pants, but he doubted that Ivan was thinking of it as an innocent and helpful gesture.

"I'll go grab the phone so you can call in sick," said Ivan, kissing Yao's lips before leaving the room.

Now alone, Yao finished taking off his pants, put on his pyjama top and pulled the blanket up over his body. Since he'd already gotten up, taken a shower and had breakfast, he didn't feel tired, but it was still nice to lie down and relax.

Ivan walked back into the room and handed Yao the phone as he got into bed. The Russian cuddled up next to his boyfriend as the smaller man looked through the phone's saved numbers and found his work's number.

As soon as Yao finished his call and set the phone down on the bedside table, Ivan grabbed the hem of the smaller man's shirt and pushed it up, exposing most of his chest. Ivan gently touched Yao's chest with his hand, his finger ever so lightly circling the smaller man's nipple, which stiffened right away without even being directly touched. Ivan grinned at how instantaneous the reaction had been and gently squeezed the stiff bud between his fingers.

"That's hardly fair," Yao panted, "you know exactly what gets me going, but I don't know how to turn you on."

"I could tell you, but where's the fun in that? I'm sure you'd rather find out for yourself," said Ivan.

"You're such a tease," said Yao, pulling his shirt back down.

Ivan kissed Yao on the cheek and sat up.

"We should go away for the weekend," said Ivan, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and looking expectantly at Yao.

"Where would we go?" asked the smaller man.

"Anywhere. It's Friday, so we can leave tomorrow and come back on Sunday. What do you think?" asked Ivan.

Yao sat up in bed, his back bare against the wall.

"It sounds like a good idea, although I don't know where we would go," said Yao.

"We could go anywhere. New York, London, Paris, Antarctica… I have enough money for us to go anywhere in the world," said Ivan.

"I don't even know if I have a valid passport, and didn't you say you weren't going to fritter your money away on things like that? How about we go somewhere a little closer to home," said Yao.

"Sure," said Ivan, "actually, I think I know just the place."

"What is it?" asked Yao.

Even though Ivan's initial suggestion of faraway cities had seemed rather unrealistic, now that they were being serious, Yao was starting to look forward to their weekend getaway.

"When I still worked at Novikov's bar, one of the customers was always talking about this amazing little town that was maybe an hour or an hour and a half away from the city. Apparently his dream was to move there. Why don't we go and see what's so great about it?" asked Ivan.

"Do you remember what the town was called?" asked Yao.

"Vaguely. It was Pierceton or Piercetown or something like that. Why don't you look it up?" asked Ivan, grabbing his phone from the bedside table, unlocking it and handing it to Yao.

"You have five new emails," he commented.

"It's just spam. The only emails I ever get are ads for mail order brides, penis enlargement and discount Rolex watches. Since I already have a wonderful boyfriend and a large dick, I just ignore them. A fancy watch might be nice, though," said Ivan.

Yao was taken aback by how nonchalantly Ivan mentioned that he was well endowed. He hadn't sounded at all boastful, it was as if it was something that he assumed Yao already knew. Of course, he would have known it before the accident, but it was still a striking reminder of how close they had been beforehand.

Yao opened the web browser and typed _piercetown_ into the search engine, and then, as an afterthought, added the name of their city to narrow down the results.

The first page that came up looked promising, so Yao clicked on the link and was taken to what seemed to be the town's tourism site, which had scenic photographs and information about the town.

"It looks so pretty! Let's go!" said Ivan, peering at the pictures on the screen.

"It does look like a nice place," said Yao.

"Da! We should go there. See if the site lists any hotels or motels or anything," said Ivan, opening the dresser drawer and pulling out a pair of pants.

As Ivan began to get dressed, Yao looked around the website for accommodation information, and sure enough he found a page listing just that.

"There are a couple of places that we could say," said Yao, looking up at Ivan.

"Let's see," said the Russian, taking the phone from Yao's hand, "I like the look of this one."

Yao looked at the name that Ivan was pointing at — _Piercetown Retreat_.

"It's a bed and breakfast," Ivan explained, "and it's on the cliff overlooking the river. The view must be spectacular."

Yao smiled.

"I guess that's where we'll be staying, then," he said.

"I'll ring them and see if we can stay there for the weekend," said Ivan, grabbing the telephone from the bedside table.

Yao watched as Ivan dialled the number and began talking to whoever had answered. Once again, Yao found himself admiring the Russian's body — pale, broad shouldered and never failing to excite him. Despite his masculine form, Ivan still had a rather sweet and innocent face, a face just as capable of looking at Yao with childish wonder as it was of sultriness. Then there were the other looks, the ones that he directed at people other than Yao; the Chinese man knew that his boyfriend was a force to be reckoned with; he was big, he was strong, and he could be rather cruel when he was angry. Yao knew that Ivan would never do anything to hurt _him_, and from what the Russian had said, he had been much worse before meeting him. While others may not be so lucky, Yao certainly had no reason to fear Ivan.

* * *

><p>"When we get back, I'm going to look for a job," said Ivan.<p>

Yao took his eyes off the road to glance at the taller man sitting in the passenger seat.

"You've been saying that for weeks," he said.

"Da, but I didn't actually do anything about it," said Ivan, "I feel useless just lazing about the house all day."

"You're not useless," said Yao, "you make me feel loved. I wouldn't call that useless."

"You're so sweet. How far is it to Piercetown?" asked Ivan.

"I don't know," said Yao, "we've been driving for an hour, so maybe another thirty minutes."

The road that they were driving on now looked nothing like the photographs from the Piercetown website; while the site had shown a pleasant town near a roaring river, the road was framed by thick trees. There was still quite a way to go, so Yao wasn't worried that they had gotten lost. It was raining heavily, but Yao was also optimistic that the weather in Piercetown would be more pleasant.

"What was the town we just went past called? I'm going to find it on the map," said Ivan.

"Franklin, I think," said Yao.

"Hmmm… I thought it was called Frenchton, but I can't find either of those on the map," said Ivan.

"I don't know," said Yao, "it doesn't really matter, we're on the right road."

"Of course," said Ivan.

All of a sudden, the car began to slow down.

"Why are we stopping?" asked Ivan.

"I'm not doing it on purpose," said Yao.

He managed to turn the car onto a driveway so that it wasn't in the middle of the road when it slowed to a halt, but Yao found himself unable to get it going again.

"Well, looks like we're stuck," he said.

"I haven't got any cell reception," Ivan said a he checked his phone, "I guess we just need to walk back to the town we passed."

"In the rain? Why don't we wait for it to die down first?" asked Yao.

"It might take a while. There's an umbrella in the back seat, I'll walk to the town and you can just stay here," said Ivan, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching into the back seat to grab the umbrella.

"Don't be silly. Let's at least check what's at the end of this driveway before we go running off into the rain," said Yao.

"Okay, you stay here, and I'll go up the driveway and see if there's a house with people or something," said Ivan.

Yao didn't really want to sit in the car and wait, but nevertheless he begrudgingly agreed.

Once Ivan's figure and the bright red umbrella he was carrying had disappeared down the driveway and into the trees, Yao began to grow bored. He checked his phone for service and found that there was none. Bored, Yao decided to take a moment to rest, so he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window.

When he opened his eyes, Yao checked his phone and found that only five minutes had passed, even though it felt like it had been much longer. Still, five minutes was quite a while for Ivan to be gone, and so Yao turned the car off, got out and locked the doors behind him.

The rain was still pouring down, and even though Yao broke into a run and sprinted to the trees as fast as he could, by the time he got there, his clothes were completely soaked. The trees didn't offer much cover, so he kept moving at a brisk pace along the dark, wet driveway, and after a while he ran into Ivan.

"Yao, I was just coming back to get you. There's a house at the end of the—god, you're so wet. Quickly, get under the umbrella," said Ivan.

Yao complied, and the two of them walked to end of the driveway under the same umbrella.

"You must be so cold," said Ivan.

"Just a bit," said Yao.

He wanted to lean against Ivan for warmth, but couldn't without getting the Russian's coat wet. Instead, Yao took Ivan's hand and held onto it as they continued walking.

Eventually, Yao caught sight of the house at the end of the driveway. It was enormous and very old — the architecture looked to be from an era long past, and although it had probably been a beauty to behold in its prime, it was now dirty and uncared for.

"There are people home, right?" asked Yao.

Of course there would be; if the house had been empty, Ivan wouldn't have lead him here.

The Russian shook his head.

"I don't think so. If there is anyone inside, they didn't hear me breaking the lock to get in," Ivan said nonchalantly as they approached the house.

"You broke the lock?" asked Yao.

"Well, yeah. I thought they might have a phone, but the lights weren't working so I guess the power's off. Either there's a power cut because of the heavy rain, or it's an abandoned building and there's never electricity here," explained Ivan.

Now under the shelter of the house's front porch, Ivan let the umbrella down and shook it dry before opening the front door. He walked inside and Yao followed him, shutting the door behind them.

The interior of the house was as elegant and old fashioned as the exterior. The front room seemed to be a dining room of sorts, and the large, wooden table was covered in a thick layer off dust.

"What are we doing here?" asked Yao, trailing his finger across the dusty table top.

"I figured we could wait here until it stops raining. It's better than being cooped up in the car, and you're completely saturated, so we might find some towels or something to dry you off with," said Ivan.

"Good idea. It'd suck to be stuck in the car, especially if I'm dripping wet," said Yao.

"Da. Now, let's get you out of those wet clothes," said Ivan.

Yao didn't do anything to stop Ivan from undressing him; he was freezing, and the cool air on his bare skin was preferable to the damp, freezing clothing. There was nobody else in the house aside from Ivan, who had already seen everything that Yao's body had to offer, so there was no reason to keep his uncomfortably wet clothes on.

Even so, it was too cold a day to be walking around in only a sopping wet pair of boxers — Ivan hadn't taken those off him, and Yao was rather glad of that — and Yao found himself holding on to Ivan for warmth.

"Let's see if there are any towels that you can use to dry yourself off, then I'll go back down to the car and grab your suitcase so you can change into something warm and dry," said the Russian.

Yao nodded, and the two of them began searching the house.

Yao was looking through the upstairs hall cupboard when Ivan called him into one of the bedrooms.

"Yao, I found a towel!"

The smaller man rushed into the room, where he was immediately wrapped in the towel that Ivan had found.

"Thanks," Yao said as he began to dry himself off.

"If you want, you can take those off and get into bed to warm up," said Ivan.

"Okay," said Yao.

Ivan turned away, and it took Yao a few moments to realise that he was doing so to give him some privacy. Yao slid his damp boxers down his thighs and climbed into bed. It almost felt wrong being in this bed — he didn't know who the house belonged to, and even though he was almost certain that nobody lived there, he couldn't imagine that whoever had last slept in this bed would be very pleased if they knew that its next inhabitant was a shivering, wet-haired, naked man who was only in the house because his boyfriend had forced the door open.

It wasn't just the fact that it was a stranger's bed that made Yao feel odd, his own nakedness also made things a little strange. He was completely covered by the rose-patterned quilt and the sheet on top of the bed, but although his body would be hidden from Ivan's eyes when the other turned back around, it was impossible for Yao not to feel his member pressed against the mattress, nor could he ignore how soft the blanket felt upon his bare skin.

"Ivan, you can turn around now," said Yao, looking over his shoulder at the Russian, who turned around to face him.

Ivan looked at Yao as if he were admiring an exquisitely beautiful piece of art.

"You're gorgeous, Yao," he said, approaching the bed and gently climbing onto it beside the smaller man.

Yao felt the bed move as Ivan climbed aboard, causing friction against his manhood. He felt blood rushing to his face as he thought about how pathetic and embarrassing it was for him to find himself aroused by the intimate touch of a _mattress_, but Yao's cheeks weren't the only place that blood was rushing to.

"Yao, are you okay?" Ivan asked, and Yao couldn't be sure if the Russian was genuinely concerned or if he could tell why he was blushing.

"Yes. No. I don't know," said Yao, rolling over so that he was lying on his back, "I want you to kiss me."

Ivan obliged, moving so that his lips were pressed against Yao's as he practically straddled the smaller man through the blanket. He seemed to know exactly what Yao wanted — not a chaste kiss or a peck on the cheek, but a body pressed against his own.

"Your coat is wet," Yao said breathlessly when they eventually broke apart, noticing that Ivan's coat had felt a little damp against his skin.

The Russian unbuttoned his coat, slipped it off and threw it aside before kissing Yao again, exploring every inch of the smaller man's mouth with his tongue. Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan and pulled him close, running his hands through the bigger man's hair. He could feel that the blanket covering his body was slipping down, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Kicking it off, he wrapped his legs around Ivan's body, not caring that the Russian could no doubt feel Yao's hardness pressed against him. Yao could feel his stiff member grinding against Ivan, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. He threw back his head and let out a moan of pleasure.

As amazing as his body felt right now, there was something else that he longed for, a need for more. Yao could feel that Ivan was hard too; how he wished that he could feel the Russian's cock against his own properly, without any fabric in the way. He wanted to press his naked body against Ivan's, to feel the bigger man's skin against every inch of his own, to look up at the other man's face and see the look on it as he lost control.

"Your turn on," Yao panted breathlessly, "it's seeing me like this, isn't it?"

Yao knew that he was right even before Ivan nodded; it was obvious from the look on the Russian's face that nothing aroused him more than having a naked, blushing, panting Yao squirming and writhing beneath him.

Yao thrust his hips forward, his member rubbing against the erection straining at Ivan's pants. The bigger man let out a long, low moan, and Yao repeated the movement, eager to hear Ivan make a noise like that again.

Without warning, Ivan pulled back and got off the bed.

"What are you—"

"You said you didn't want to have sex with me until you were ready. We don't have to do it now, so I'm going to go and get your suitcase from the car, and when I come back, we'll talk about it," said Ivan, picking up his coat and beginning to button it up, "I don't want to make you do something you'll regret."

Yao, now a little self conscious about how bare he was, pulled the blanket up so that it covered his body again.

"Thanks," he said, "I'll think about it while I wait for you to come back."

Ivan gave Yao a quick kiss on the lips and left the room. Yao rolled onto his side and considered what had happened, what could have happened if Ivan hadn't stopped when he did. How would it have ended? With Yao coming all over Ivan's clothes and the bigger man not getting a release? With both of them naked and satisfied, bathing in the afterglow of their intimacy?

As awful as it sounded, Yao still didn't love Ivan, but perhaps the realization that he _did_ would come during the act itself. Perhaps, but perhaps not. He didn't know if it mattered, nor did Yao know what he would say to Ivan when he came back.

Yao sighed and rolled onto his stomach, pulling the blanket closer around his body to keep himself warm. The driveway was long, and it would take Ivan quite a while to get back. Yao would have plenty of time to think about it.


	16. House in the Woods

Ivan placed Yao's suitcase on the ground and shut the trunk of the car. He checked to make sure it actually was _Yao's_ suitcase — just before, he had gotten about a hundred metres up the driveway before realizing that the suitcase he was carrying was his own, and had had to turn around and go back for Yao's. He was so distracted; he couldn't get the image of Yao's body out of his head. He couldn't stop thinking about how erotic it had been to have Yao lying beneath him, naked and panting and pressing his beautiful body up against Ivan's.

It had taken every ounce of willpower for Ivan to make himself leave — he _wanted_ Yao, wanted to touch him and hold him and fuck him. It had been so long since they had last done that, and as much as Ivan loved kissing his boyfriend and holding him in his arms as they slept, but he wanted more — and so did Yao. Still, Ivan wanted their first time — well, Yao's, since Ivan could remember their actual first time — to be perfect. Yao had said he wanted to wait until he loved him, and Ivan wanted to honour that.

He didn't want Yao to regret it, so even if it meant waiting — which meant that Yao might discover that Ivan had been lying before they got the chance to do it — he would let Yao take as long as he needed to fall for him and decide that he wanted to do it. Even so, Ivan couldn't help but hope that when he got back to the house, Yao would have decided that he was ready — not just because he was naked and horny and there was nothing else to do in that house, but because he loved him.

Ivan deliberately walked at a slow pace so that Yao would have ample time to decide what he wanted to do, but eventually he reached the end of the driveway and found himself entering the abandoned house. Slowly, Ivan climbed the stairs and walked up to the doorway of the bedroom where he had left Yao, knocking on the doorframe as the door itself had been left ajar.

"You can come in," came Yao's voice from inside the room.

Ivan walked into the bedroom and found that Yao was sitting on the bed, his back against the iron headboard and the blanket pulled up to his chest.

"Here's your suitcase," said Ivan, setting the suitcase down at the foot of the bed.

"Thanks," said Yao, "could you… ah… give me some privacy? I'm going to get dressed."

"Of course," said Ivan.

He gave Yao a quick kiss on the forehead and left the room, shutting the door as he went.

Ivan wandered aimlessly through the house, not really paying attention to where he was going. He found himself in the kitchen, which, aside from the counters and cupboards, was completely empty; no stove, no fridge, no appliances. It was hard to tell how long the house had been abandoned for — there were no modern conveniences like televisions or computers, but since everything else of value was gone, it was possible that those had been removed when the previous inhabitants had left. Still, the fact that all of the remaining furniture looked very old gave Ivan the feeling that the house had been empty for a long, long time.

Ivan continued to wander through the old house, wondering what its story was. There were no photographs on the walls or books on the shelves to hint at the interests or identity of the previous inhabitant; there was, however, a large world map on the wall of one of the rooms.

Ivan felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see that Yao was standing beside him. The smaller man reached up and traced the outline of China was his finger.

"That's where I was born," he said, his fingertip coming to rest on Beijing, "even though I don't remember it, when I look at this map I can't help thinking that this place is very important to me."

"Of course it is, it's where you come from, and it doesn't matter if you don't remember it," said Ivan, "it's like how people sometimes feel a connection to a certain country because their ancestors came from there, even if they themselves have never set foot there."

Yao nodded.

"What about you? Do you feel a special connection to your home in Russia?" he asked, looking up at Ivan.

The taller man nodded.

"Even though leaving was probably the best decision, I'd still like to go back some day, just for a visit. I could take you with me, Yao. You could meet my sisters, see the house where I grew up… and maybe we could also go to Beijing," he said.

"I don't know," said Yao, staring wistfully at his home country on the map, "if my father hates me—"

"He doesn't. He can't. Even if he doesn't like that you're gay, that's just a single thing about you that he dislikes. There's so much about you to love — you're so kind and intelligent and beautiful. I'm not defending what he did, but I'm sure he doesn't hate you," said Ivan.

Yao turned to Ivan and smiled.

"Thanks. Somehow you always manage to make me feel better," he said.

Ivan wrapped his arms around the smaller man and held him close against his chest.

"I love you, Yao. I love you so much," Ivan murmured as he gently stroked Yao's hair.

"You know what you said to me when I first saw you after the accident? You said that I was the best and most important thing in your life. That's how I feel about you," said Yao.

It wasn't quite _I love you_, but it was close. Knowing that he was that important to Yao made Ivan so happy. He hugged the smaller man tighter and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"The rain hasn't died down at all," said Yao, "and it's getting dark."

"We might have to stay here tonight," said Ivan.

"What will we do?" asked Yao.

"I guess we just have to hope that it's not raining tomorrow so we can walk to that town we passed," said Ivan.

"No, I meant what will we do tonight?" asked Yao.

"Nothing that you don't feel comfortable doing. We don't have to do anything at all," said Ivan.

"You're such a good boyfriend," said Yao, "I should love you."

"It's only been a month, Yao," said Ivan, his eyes never leaving the smaller man's.

"How long did it take you to fall in love with me?" Yao asked.

Ivan hesitated. He'd loved Yao less than a day after meeting him, but that seemed far too soon.

"It was less than a month, wasn't it?" asked Yao.

Ivan nodded, breaking eye contact.

"How long did it take me to fall in love with you?" asked Yao.

"Yao, no. Don't worry about it, and don't feel bad that it's not happening the same this time around," said Ivan.

"I want to love you, Ivan. You've been so kind to me—"

"Don't feel bad, Yao. It's not your fault," said Ivan.

Yao sighed and wrapped his arms around Ivan.

"I'm tired, Ivan," he mumbled into the taller man's chest.

"Let's go to bed. The sooner we do that, the sooner we'll wake up and get going tomorrow morning," said Ivan, gently patting Yao's back.

As much as he lusted after Yao's body and longed to feel the smaller man writhing and squirming and moaning and _losing control_ beneath him, Ivan was glad that they weren't going to have sex tonight. Even though Ivan knew that Yao was happy with him, happier than he would have been if he had been told the truth at the very beginning, the long-haired man was still confused and messed up as a result of the amnesia (and probably also Ivan's lies) and the Russian didn't want him to do something that he wasn't ready to do and regret it. The idea of fucking Yao right now was appealing, but not as appealing as the thought of doing it beautifully and gently when the time was right and Yao loved him. There was nothing that Ivan wanted more than that.

* * *

><p>Yao lay in bed, wide awake, looking up at the ceiling that it was too dark to see. Beside him, Ivan was fast asleep. Usually when the Russian fell asleep before him, it wasn't long until the rhythmic breathing of the man beside him lulled Yao to sleep, but tonight he just wasn't tired.<p>

Quietly, he slipped out of bed and picked up his phone, which had been lying on the bedside table. They had decided to sleep in a different bedroom from the one that they had used in the afternoon, and the light from Yao's phone illuminated the pastel pink wallpaper of the room. Although the room and the little furniture left inside it were decidedly feminine looking, it seemed unlikely that it has belonged to a girl — an old woman, perhaps, but not a young person.

Yao walked over to the other side of the room, his feet barely making a sound as they padded across the hardwood floor. He sat down in the chair that was in the corner of the bedroom and gazed across the room at Ivan. The Russian was fast asleep, and Yao loved how serene he looked. Although he knew that Ivan loved him and loved being with him, he was sure that his amnesia had taken a toll on the other man. It couldn't be pleasant having the love of your life not remember a single thing about you, and winning him over a second time must have seemed like such a daunting task.

Yao was glad that Ivan had taken the time and effort to win his heart for a second time, although the smaller man suspected that the Russian was really just a very sweet person and would probably just do nice things for him anyway. Ivan had told him that he had never been very nice to other people, especially not when he had been a teenager in Russia, but Yao was glad that he was the one person that Ivan adored more than anyone else in the world. He could think of nothing worse than to have the bigger man —who was sleeping peacefully a few feet away and looking quite adorable — dislike him. Yao didn't understand what Ivan liked so much about him, but he was glad that he had somehow earned the Russian's love.

Feeling the need to be near Ivan, Yao got up from the chair that he was sitting in and climbed back into bed next to the Russian. The spot where he had been lying had cooled down since he had gotten out of bed, which was good, since before it had been almost uncomfortably warm. Yao turned his phone off and set it down on the bedside table before reaching out for Ivan's hand in the darkness.

Even if their relationship became sexual, which it no doubt would, Yao hoped that they would still have innocent nights like this, falling asleep hand in hand.

* * *

><p>"Yao," Ivan said softly, his face mere inches from the smaller man's, "wake up, Yao-Yao."<p>

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that?" Yao asked, still not opening his eyes.

"Aw, but Yao-Yao is such a cute name," said Ivan.

"Well, I'm not cute," said Yao.

Ivan laughed.

"You _are_ cute, but maybe beautiful would be a more fitting term," said Ivan.

Yao smiled and opened his eyes. Ivan loved Yao's eyes; they were such a beautiful golden shade of brown, and he adored the way they looked at him — with admiration and attraction, never with fear.

"It's not raining, but I don't know how long it will last for. We should get going as soon as possible," said Ivan, gently kissing Yao's forehead before pulling back and getting out of bed, "of course, you could just stay here while I walk to the town."

"No, I'll go with you," said Yao, sitting up in bed, "I'll just need a little while to get up and get dressed."

"Of course. I'll go and get changed in the other room so you can have some privacy," said Ivan.

He gathered up his clothes, which he had left on the floor, and left for the other bedroom.

Once both of them were dressed and ready, they left the house behind. Ivan insisted on carrying Yao's suitcase down the driveway to the car, even though the smaller man protested that since it was his, he should be the one to take it.

"If you want to carry it, just take it from me!" Ivan teased, holding the suitcase high above his head where Yao, who was quite a bit shorter, could not reach it.

The smaller man sighed.

"Fine, you carry it," he said.

"It'd be my pleasure to carry your suitcase for you, Yao," said Ivan, his arm making its way around Yao's shoulder.

"You know, I'm actually really hungry," said Yao.

"No wonder. We didn't have dinner last night _or_ breakfast this morning," said Ivan.

"At least you had some bottled water on you," said Yao.

"That's true, but we'll have to have a nice big meal when we reach the town to make up for not having dinner or breakfast," said Ivan.

Soon they passed the tree-covered portion of the driveway and found themselves in the summer sunlight; it was hard to believe that just yesterday it had been pouring down with rain.

"Before we set off walking, let's just check that the car's still not working. It'd suck if we got there and had someone pick it up only to find that there wasn't anything wrong with it," said Yao.

"Good idea," said Ivan.

When they reached the car, Ivan put the suitcase back in the trunk while Yao checked to see if it was working — it wasn't.

"Well," said Yao, leaning against the car door in what Ivan thought was an unintentionally sexy position, "I guess we do have to walk."

Ivan couldn't stop himself from kissing Yao, slipping his tongue into the smaller man's mouth as he pinned him against the car. Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan and kissed back, his hips pressing against Ivan's. It was rare nowadays for them to kiss without their bodies moving against each other like that. Ivan didn't mind, he treasured any physical intimacy with Yao, but he did sort of miss the sweet, innocent, chaste kisses that they had shared at the beginning of their relationship.

He remembered how Yao had kissed him while they were sitting on the sofa on the day that they had gone to the fair. Although the smaller man had practically been sitting on Ivan's lap, their interaction had been innocent. It was amazing how far the had come in just a month — although they had gone from strangers to sex on the night they had met, now they were so close to being in love.

Ivan loved Yao, and Yao… well, it shouldn't take him much longer to feel the same way. As impossible as it seemed to Ivan that someone like Yao could ever fall in love with someone like him, it was sure to happen. Yao had told Ivan that he was his very favourite person and the most important thing in his life — and all because the Chinese man was so lovely that Ivan couldn't help being the epitome of nice when they were together.

Yao pulled back and leaned against the car door.

"Shall we get going? Well have plenty of time for that sort of thing once we get the car fixed and get to Piercetown," said Yao.

Ivan smiled and grabbed Yao's hand.

"Do you want me to hold your hand, or would you rather have me carry you?" asked Ivan.

"I'd much rather hold your hand," Yao said as the two of them began walking.

* * *

><p>The two of them stopped for the fifth (or was it the sixth?) time as Yao tried to catch his breath.<p>

"It's okay, Yao, we're here now," said the Russian, as he leaned against a stop sign and watched the smaller man gasping for breath, "I never would have thought that you were that bad at walking."

"That wasn't walking," Yao said, leaning against the white picket fence surrounding the house that they had stopped beside, "walking is a leisurely stroll. That was… that took an hour, and we had the hot sun beating down on us the whole time."

"I'm sorry, Yao," said Ivan.

"It's not your fault," Yao wheezed, "although I have no idea how you didn't pass out from the heat since you're wearing that coat."

"I don't think it's too hot, even in this coat. It's nice and warm!" said Ivan.

Yao gave him a half hearted smile.

"Hey, I can see a café a little way up the street. You can go in there and get yourself a nice cold drink, and I'll ask someone if they know who we'd need to see about getting the car towed to town and fixed," said Ivan.

"Alright," said Yao, wiping the sweat from his forehead and stumbling away from the fence to lean against Ivan.

The Russian put his arm around the smaller man and the two of them began the final stretch of their journey.

It was no more than a minute before they reached the café, and, now that he was sitting in an air conditioned building and drinking iced tea, it took Yao no time at all to regain his composure.

"Hey, Yao, I asked about where we'd find someone to help with the car, and apparently there's a mechanic just around the corner, so I'll go and talk to him and you can just stay here. Is that okay?" asked Ivan, leaning across the table.

Yao nodded.

"That's fine," he said.

Ivan gave Yao a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the café. Yao watched him as he went and waved at the Russian as he passed by Yao's table outside the window, and Ivan blew him a kiss in return.

Yao sat by himself and absentmindedly stirred the sugar bowl that was sitting in the middle of the table. He loved being with Ivan, but sometimes it was nice to have some time alone so that he could think, although he rarely solved his problems by doing so. Thinking about the fact that he didn't love Ivan yet, even though the Russian clearly loved him, didn't bring him any closer to falling in love, and thinking about his amnesia didn't bring back any memories.

Still, Yao found that thinking things over made him feel a little better. The conclusion that he always came to was this — Ivan loved him, and he should cherish that and try not to feel guilty.

Downing the last of his drink, Yao realised that he was actually pretty hungry, and the mere scent of the food that the other customers were eating was making his mouth water.

Yao reached into his pocket to check that he had his wallet on him, and then walked up to the counter to order something to eat. The idea that he should wait for Ivan to get back so that they could eat together crossed his mind, but Yao quickly dismissed it. He was hungry enough that he could eat something now _and_ have a meal later when his boyfriend came back. Besides, who knew how long it would take for Ivan to get back?

* * *

><p>"Yao, I'm so sorry that I took so long," said Ivan, rushing into the cafe and sitting down across from Yao.<p>

"S'okay," the smaller man said through a mouthful of food, smiling at Ivan.

"They figured out what's wrong with the car. It's... ah…" Ivan tried to remember what the mechanic had told him, but it had been some sort of car jargon that he hadn't understood, "…something, I can't remember what he said, but it'll be fixed by tomorrow."

"So we won't get to Piercetown this weekend," Yao remarked.

Ivan's face fell.

"I guess we won't," Ivan said sadly, "I'm sorry, I wanted to take you there because apparently such a lovely place, but I guess I kind of let you down, huh?"

"Nonsense! You didn't let me down, Ivan, the damn car let us both down, and honestly, I don't really mind. Staying in that house was pretty cool, and tonight we can just stay at some hotel in this town and then go back home tomorrow. It's been a nice trip, really," said Yao.

"You think so? I liked it, but that's just because when I'm with you, I'm happy no matter where we are," said Ivan.

"I kind of feel like that too," said Yao, "but you must be so hungry. Here, try a piece of this."

He tore a piece off the end of the loaf of bread on his place.

"It's called chili garlic loaf. It's really nice," said Yao, popping it into Ivan's mouth.

Ivan chewed thoughtfully for a moment before nodding and smiling.

"It is really good," he said, before taking Yao's hand and licking the garlic butter off his fingers, "and this is even better."

"You should order some for yourself, then," said Yao.

"Maybe," said Ivan.

"You should get something, at least. You haven't eaten for a long time," said Yao.

"Okay," Ivan agreed, "then we can see about getting a hotel for the night."

Yao nodded.

"Let's hope there's actually a vacancy. There might not be on such short notice," he said.

"Well, if we can't get a hotel room, I guess we could drive back to that house and stay there another night," Ivan suggested.

"Hopefully it won't come to that, but at least we have that option. Now go get yourself something to eat," said Yao.

"Yes, Yao-Yao, as you wish," said Ivan, getting up and giving the smaller man a quick kiss before walking up to the cafe counter.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**What kind of monster would tease you with the promise of smut at the end of one chapter and then have none happen in the next? That's a special kind of evil right there.**

**Don't worry, it will probably happen eventually.**

**Also, I apologise for taking so long to get this chapter finished. Hopefully the next one won't take such a long time.**


	17. Under the Gun

"Yao!" Ivan exclaimed, bounding up to the smaller man and wrapping his arms around him.

"Hey," said Yao, returning the Russian's embrace, "you're very affectionate today."

"I missed you while you were at work — and I have some news! Guess what it is!" said Ivan, letting go of Yao.

"Uh… you heard from your sister?" Yao guessed.

Ivan shook his head.

"Nyet, try again," said the Russian.

"You… ah… bought a pet panda?" asked Yao.

"No, I'm getting a job!" Ivan said proudly.

"Oh, congratulations! Where are you going to be working?" asked Yao, taking off his jacket and sitting down on the sofa.

"Remember when we went out to that bar with your friends? It's that place," said Ivan, sitting down beside Yao.

"The one with the bartender that you knew?" asked Yao.

Ivan nodded.

"That's the one. It's called Cosmos. I'm going to be working there," said Ivan.

"That's great," said Yao, resting his head on the other man's shoulder, "when are you working?"

"Noon 'til six on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, and noon 'til three on Fridays," Ivan replied.

Yao nodded, his head still resting against Ivan's soft, comfortable shoulder. Three days a week, he would finish work an hour before Ivan did. Although he loved being with the Russian, it would be nice to have an hour to himself a few times each week.

"You'll have to start letting me pay for things when I'm working," said Ivan, "bills and things. You insist on paying them all yourself."

"Sure," said Yao, closing his eyes, "I'll get started on dinner soon, I just need a moment to rest."

"Yao, do you think about me when you're at work? I think about you a lot when you're not with me," said Ivan, pulling the tie out of Yao's hair and running his hands through his long, dark locks.

"I think about you," Yao mumbled.

"What sort of thoughts do you have about me?" asked Ivan.

"I think about things we've done, things we're going to do. Sometimes I think about how much I like you," said Yao.

"Awww. I think about those sorts of things too. Sometimes I worry about you, though, even though I know I shouldn't because you're so brave and strong. But mostly I just think about how much I love you," said Ivan, kissing Yao on the forehead.

Yao smiled sleepily.

"I will love you, Ivan. I can feel it," he mumbled, perhaps a little too quiet for the Russian to hear.

"You're so beautiful. I'm so lucky to have you," said Ivan.

It was these compliments that Yao heard as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Yao woke to find that Ivan was shifting the furniture around. The Russian had his back turned and was dragging the coffee table closer to the sofa.<p>

"What are you doing?" Yao asked.

"Oh, you're awake! I was going to bring this table over to you and put your dinner on it so it would be right there when you woke up," said Ivan.

"You made dinner? I was going to do it, you know. You could have woken me," said Yao, sitting up. He was sure that he'd fallen asleep leaning against Ivan, but he supposed that the Russian could have moved him so that he was more comfortable.

"You looked so peaceful, I couldn't bring myself to wake you. Besides, this will be my last chance to make dinner for you for a while, since I'll be at work at this hour starting tomorrow," said Ivan, "anyway, it's not fancy like the things that you cook, but I figured it would be nice to give you a night off from cooking, especially since you were already asleep."

"That's very sweet of you, Ivan," said Yao.

"It's not much," said Ivan, briefly walking into the kitchen to grab the food that he had prepared for Yao, "but you looked so adorable sleeping that I couldn't bear to wake you."

Ivan put the plate of food down on the coffee table in front of Yao.

"Scrambled eggs and sausage. As I said, it's fairly plain compared to what you cook - but perhaps I could make you a Russian dish sometime," Ivan said as he went back into the kitchen to grab a fork for Yao.

"That would be lovely," said Yao.

Yao picked up the fork and began eating. Ivan had neglected to give him a knife, but it was easy enough to tear through the sausage meat with the side of his fork.

"Is it good?" asked Ivan.

Yao nodded.

"Very good," he said.

"I'm glad you like it. I ate while you were sleeping, so I'll go have a shower now," said Ivan.

"Okay," said Yao, "give me a kiss before you go."

"As you wish," said Ivan, placing a soft kiss on Yao's cheek.

"Love you," Ivan said, kissing Yao once more before leaving the room.

Yao finished eating his dinner, Ivan on his mind. He loved being with the Russian; he loved falling asleep next to him and waking up in his arms, he loved the kisses the shared and the sweet things that Ivan said to him, but somehow, Yao did not love Ivan yet.

He didn't know why. He was a little worried that he already loved Ivan — that the affection he felt for the Russian _was_ love. Yao didn't remember what it had been like to be in love, so perhaps that was all it was. He had been waiting to feel some intense, passionate sort of love, but perhaps this was all that love was. Perhaps this was all he had felt for the Russian before he had lost his memory.

"Hey, Yao."

Yao looked up to see that Ivan was standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Ivan, what's up?" asked Yao.

"I was just wondering… the things you with me, the kisses and the other things, do you do them because you want to, not because you think you should because of how I feel about you and how you used to feel about me, right?" asked the Russian.

Yao sighed. Did Ivan really worry about that?

"Of course I do it because I want to. You don't have to be in love with someone to want to kiss them — you of all people should know that, considering how our relationship started out the first time," said Yao.

Ivan nodded.

"I know, I was just thinking about how I'd told you that I didn't want to pressure you into doing anything you don't want to, and I just wanted to make sure that I wasn't already doing that," said Ivan.

"You're not," Yao assured him, "just go and have your shower and don't worry about me."

"Okay," said Ivan, leaving once more.

* * *

><p>The loud, incessant beeping of the alarm clock on the bedside table roused Ivan from his slumber. It felt like it had been only a few minutes since he had first awoken, when Yao had been getting up and ready for work.<p>

"I'm resetting the alarm for eleven o'clock. That gives you an hour to get to work. Is that enough time?" the Chinese man had asked, glancing down at him while fiddling with the clock.

Ivan had sleepily mumbled words of agreement, not bothering to think about whether an hour would be long enough.

"I'm setting the alarm to buzzer instead of radio. Some mornings when the radio comes on to wake me, you sleep right through it," Yao had said, before giving Ivan a quick kiss and leaving.

Ivan reached for the clock and tried to find the button that would silence the alarm. Although he had more time than most to sleep in the morning, it was rare that he would sleep in until as late as eleven; half the time he didn't even go back to sleep after Yao left. However, for some unfortunate reason, the day that Ivan actually had to get up and go somewhere was the day that he wanted nothing more than another minute — or two, or five, or sixty — of sleep.

He finally hit the right button on the clock and the blaring alarm fell silent. As much as Ivan wanted to rest for just a little while longer, he knew that he had to get up, and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet coming to rest on the soft, carpeted floor of Yao's bedroom. He liked that; it was much nicer than the cold, hardwood floor of his bedroom in his own apartment. Ivan had hated how awful that floor had felt against his bare feet on cold mornings. He had mentioned it to Anastasiya during a phone call, though, and she had sent him three pairs of brightly coloured woollen socks that she had knitted herself. As daft as they had looked, they _had_ kept him warm, and besides, Ivan couldn't bring himself to say an unkind word about a gift that his big sister had lovingly made for him.

Ivan remembered that back when he had lived in Russia, Anastasiya had always knitted nice things for him and Natalia to keep them warm. Their mother had tried to teach all three of them to knit, but Ivan had given up when the other kids at school had teased him for pursuing such a girly hobby, and Natalia had been prone to accidentally stabbing people and things and herself with the knitting needles (although Ivan had secretly wondered if some of those accidents weren't so accidental) and so she had stopped too.

After getting dressed, Ivan grabbed his favourite scarf and wrapped it around his neck. It was one of the things that Anastasiya had made for him, and she had said that it was the creation that she was most proud of.

Even though Ivan wore it practically every day, the scarf was still in perfect condition.

Now fully dressed, Ivan threw open the curtains and looked outside. It looked like it was going to be a good day — although since he had met Yao, Ivan hadn't had many bad days. Even when they weren't together, the Russian was happy — he always had something to look forward to.

As he made himself breakfast and readied himself for work, Ivan wondered what Yao was doing. Often when he was alone, Ivan would pass the time by imagining what the smaller man was getting up to at work — Ivan didn't really know what a campaign worker did all day, but the day that he had visited Yao at work, the Chinese man had been doing something fairly uninteresting on a computer. Still, Yao enjoyed his job, and that was all that mattered. As he walked out of the house and locked the door behind him, Ivan silently hoped that he would enjoy his own job.

* * *

><p>Ivan stood with his back to the counter, admiring the extensive collection of vodka in the cabinet behind the bar. He wondered if Yao would mind much if he were to get his own liquor cabinet. Yao didn't drink, but he didn't mind that Ivan did. The bigger man could hold his liquor; it took a lot to actually get him drunk. That was what had drawn Yao to him on the night that they met — he hadn't been inebriated to the point of stupor like Yao's friends had been. Ivan wondered if there has been anything else about himself that had attracted Yao — he couldn't have been the only person who had been drinking alone. Still, Ivan was thankful that Yao had approached him — at the time, it had been nice to know that someone wanted to talk to him, but looking back, it was amazing how one simple decision had changed his life.<p>

"Hey!" came a voice from behind Ivan, snapping him out of his daydream.

Ivan turned around to find that there was a man sitting at one of the barstools, looking at him rather irritatedly. He was the first customer that Ivan had seen all day — the manager had told him that the bar was usually rather quiet during the day, but since it was the only one in that area of the city that was open so early, they did get a few customers.

"Sorry, I was off in a world of my own. What can I get you?" Ivan asked politely.

"I said it before, I'd like a beer," said the man.

Ivan smiled.

"Of course," he said, grabbing a glass mug from beneath the counter, "but there are a lot of different brands of beer to choose from. What would you like in particular?"

"I'll take any, just hurry up," said the man.

"Okay," said Ivan, choosing a beer at random and letting it pour into the mug, "but you know, you should be careful making orders like that. Some might choose to give you the most expensive sort of beer so that you would have to pay more."

"Right, thanks for the advice, and thanks for taking a century to get me my drink," said the man, roughly taking the glass from Ivan.

"That will be six dollars seventy," said the Russian.

The man reached into his trenchcoat, but instead of money to pay for his drink, he pulled out a handgun, which he pointed straight at Ivan.

"Open the till," he said coldly.

Shocked as he was, Ivan knew better than to go against the wishes of a man who was pointing a gun at his head, so he obeyed the man's order.

"Now," said the man, peering into the cash register, his brows furrowed in concentration, "give me all the hundred dollar notes."

Without saying a word, Ivan grabbed the said notes — there were quite a few of them — and handed them to the man, all the while wondering if there was any way that he could incapacitate the man without getting shot himself. Perhaps if he was fast enough, Ivan would be able to grab a bottle and smash it against the man's skull, but there was a chance that this man, whoever he was, would see it coming. The question was this — was the gun just a threat, or was he prepared to use it? Even if he had no qualms about killing a stranger, surely he couldn't think that it was worth risking a murder conviction just to steal a few hundred dollars.

As the man pocketed the money, Ivan decided that attacking him wasn't worth the risk. Not too long ago, his choice probably would have been a different one. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted to live, exactly, but now that he had Yao, he didn't want to do anything careless that would mean losing him.

"Gimme the fifties too," said the man, his gun still pointing straight at Ivan.

"Okay," said the Russian, smiling cheerful.

It was an expression that looked completely out of place on the face of a man with a gun trained on his head, and Ivan could tell that the man was unnerved by it. He watched the man discretely through the silver-blonde locks of hair that fell in front of his eyes as he leaned down to fumble with the money in the till. Ivan had been in enough fights as a teenager to know exactly how to make someone vulnerable and how to use the vulnerability to his advantage. He wasn't planning anything, of course, that would be too dangerous; he was simply thinking.

"Here you go," said Ivan, gathering up all of the fifty dollar bills in the cash register and placing it in the other man's hand.

Without warning, Ivan wrapped his fingers around the man's wrist and yanked his arm to the side, knocking him off balance and causing the gun to slip from his grasp. Before he could regain his senses and grab at it, Ivan slammed the man's head down against the bar.

As the man slumped against the counter, Ivan checked his pulse, just to make sure that he hadn't unintentionally killed him. Even through his gloves, Ivan could feel the throbbing vein in the man's neck beneath his fingers.

It was only now, standing over the eerily still body of the man who had been pointing a gun at him mere moments ago, that Ivan began to feel fear. Although the rational part of his mind registered how silly it was that he was only worrying now that the danger was over, Ivan couldn't help thinking about the way things could have turned out — with him dead and with Yao alone and broken-hearted, nobody there to explain the truth to him when his memories came back and he realised that Ivan had only been his lover for one night.

Although Yao was the greatest thing in his life, he wasn't the only reason that Ivan didn't want to die. Ever since he had first learned that death was a thing and that it would eventually happen to everyone, Ivan had been afraid of it. It wasn't death that frightened him, it was what came afterwards. What came afterwards? He didn't know, nobody knew — nobody but the dead — and it was that uncertainty that terrified him.

So many things could have gone wrong just then, all because he had been so impulsive and reckless, and he would have died trying to stop a man from stealing a few hundred dollars that weren't even his. His death would not have been worth it — not in the slightest.

Ivan sighed. There was no sense in worrying about what could have happened but ultimately did not. Thoughts like that, if they had to be thought of at it, could wait until he was at home, with Yao there to comfort and reassure him. Yao was good at that; whenever Ivan was feeling down, the smaller man would know exactly the right thing to say to make him feel better. Ivan wished that he could do the same for Yao, but he wasn't very good at comforting people.

However, the time to think about his lover was not now. Ivan had merely knocked the other man out, there was still much to do before the ordeal was over. The Russian picked up the gun so the man would not be able to get it if he were to wake, and began fishing around in his pocket for his phone.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**With this update, _One Little Lie_ becomes the second longest RoChu story on this site (at least, the second longest story with Russia and China as the main characters; there are probably longer ones that feature RoChu as a side pairing or something). Although it makes me a little bit sad that there aren't many lengthy fics for this pairing, I'm quite excited about this achievement — and it's all thanks to you, my lovely readers. Although I don't write purely for feedback, knowing that people read and enjoy my work really motivates me to keep going, even when I'm at a difficult place in the story or feeling uninspired. So thank you, I couldn't have gotten this far without you, and I hope that you all enjoy this chapter and everything that is to come.**

**I'm probably being ridiculously sentimental, but it really does mean a lot to me.**

**And while I'm thanking people, much thanks to the lovely Twi/TheMortician'sDaughter for coming up with the name _Cosmos_ for the bar in this chapter.**


	18. I'm in Love

Yao put down his pencil when he heard the front door open. He had been meaning to start on dinner quite some time ago, but he had absentmindedly started sketching the vase of peonies on the kitchen table — Ivan had bought them for him as a gift after finding out that they were the smaller man's favourite flower — and before he knew it, an hour and a half had passed and his rough sketch had become a very detailed drawing.

"Hey, Ivan," Yao called, looking up from his picture, "I got distracted and didn't make dinner, so do you mind if we just order a pizza tonight?"

"Yao," said Ivan, walking into the room, "I need a hug."

Yao got up and wrapped his arms around the Russian, his head resting on the taller man's shoulder. The clock on the wall caught Yao's eye, its minute hand much further around than he had expected it to be.

"Ivan, why are you so late? It's almost a quarter to seven," asked Yao, pulling out of the Russian's warm embrace.

"I stayed after work a while talking to my boss about what happened, and I kind of lost track of the time," said Ivan.

"What do you mean _what happened_?" asked Yao, brows furrowed in confusion.

"A man with a gun came into the bar and tried to rob it," said Ivan, "I managed to stop him, but… it was really stupid of me. It was lucky that when I knocked him off balance, he dropped the gun, but if he hadn't… I probably wouldn't be here right now."

Yao could tell just from looking at Ivan that the other man was frightened, even though the danger was no more. He had probably tried to keep that fear hidden from everyone else during the day, but now that he was finally alone with Yao, he wasn't trying to hide. As awful as it was to see Ivan so distressed, Yao couldn't help himself from feeling a little glad that his boyfriend was able to be open with him like that.

"Ivan, there's no need to worry about what could have happened, because it didn't happen. You know what did happen? You came home. And you know what's going to happen? We're going to get a pizza and watch some TV, although we're probably not going to pay much attention to the show that's on since we'll get distracted and kiss each other a lot like we always do, and—"

Ivan wrapped his arms around Yao, pulling the Chinese man into a tight embrace.

"You always make me feel better. No matter what happens, if I can hold you in my arms like this, I know that everything's alright," said Ivan.

Yao smiled and gave Ivan a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"If it helps," he said, "you can hold me as much as you want."

"I will," replied the taller man, "I'll take you up on that offer."

Yao kissed Ivan again before pulling away.

"I'll order dinner. I said before that we could get pizza, but if you'd prefer something else then that's cool too," he said.

"Pizza's fine. You choose what sort, I'm fine with anything," said Ivan.

Yao called one of the local pizza joints and placed an order. Once he had finished, he looked up and noticed that Ivan was sitting at the table, seemingly mesmerised by the drawing that Yao had left there.

"Did you do this?" Ivan asked, not taking his eyes off the picture.

Yao nodded.

"Yeah, that's what I was doing instead of making dinner," he said, coming to stand by Ivan's side.

"Yao, this is beautiful," said Ivan, looking up at his boyfriend.

"You think so? Thanks, I guess it's pretty good," said Yao.

"No, really, this is amazing. It looks exactly like these flowers I got you. You did the entire thing today?" asked Ivan.

"Well, yeah," said Yao.

He wasn't entirely sure why Ivan was so captivated by the drawing. Yao was rather proud of it, but he could also see a few faults and mistakes.

"How are you so perfect, Yao? You're kind and smart and beautiful and funny and an amazing cook _and_ a brilliant artist," said Ivan.

Yao blushed a little, still moved by Ivan's compliments even after hearing them a hundred times.

"You're amazing too, Ivan," he replied.

"Not like you are," said Ivan, "and I can't draw."

"I've never seen you draw," said Yao, "you should show me."

Ivan sighed.

"Fine, but you won't be impressed," he said, picking up the pencil and grabbing the newspaper that was sitting on the table.

Yao watched as Ivan began to draw a circle, inside of which he drew two other circles of different sizes. Noticing that he was being watched, Ivan hunched over the paper so that Yao couldn't see the drawing.

"Not until it's finished," he said.

Yao waited as Ivan finished his drawing and finally moved back so that the Chinese man could see it.

On the newspaper, in the blank space between an article about government spending and an ad for a local supermarket, was a small pencil drawing of a bear. One of its eyes was a little bigger than the other, and the body looked more like a teddy bear's than that of a real one, but Yao could tell from the markings on the eyes, ears and torso _exactly_ what it was meant to be.

"It's a panda!" he said.

Ivan nodded.

"It's a really awful panda," said the Russian.

Yao shook his head.

"It's really cute. I like its little smile, it looks really friendly and nice," he said.

He felt like he was talking to a child, but the panda _did_ look cute and charming in its own way.

"It's not cute, it's deformed," Ivan protested,

"Be nice to the panda. You'll hurt the poor thing's feelings if you say things like that," Yao joked, "but seriously, I like it. It's cute."

"_You're_ cute," said Ivan, and Yao could tell that the bigger man had given up trying to convince him that the panda drawing was terrible.

"You're cute too," said Yao, sitting down on Ivan's lap and wrapping his arms around the bigger man.

"Mmmm… I like being with you, Yao-Yao. I forget all of my troubles when I'm holding you in my arms or kissing you or… anything at all, as long as I'm with you," said Ivan.

Yao smiled, kissing the bigger man again.

"I feel like that too," he murmured, gazing into Ivan's violet eyes, mere inches away from his own.

"Really?" asked Ivan, "I'm glad, I like making you happy."

Yao laid his head on the Russian's shoulder.

"I'm so glad that you're okay, Ivan. I don't know what I would have done if you… if the man had… if today had played out differently," said Yao.

Just thinking about the fact that Ivan could have died today sent a chill down Yao's spine. He spent so much time with the Russian that it was hard to picture what his life would be like without Ivan, but just thinking about never seeing Ivan again and never feeling his warm embrace or his soft kisses made Yao feel uneasy. Yao didn't often think about his future — it was hard to when he barely remembered his past — but when he did, it was always a future with Ivan. Even though he could only recall spending a short amount of time with Ivan, Yao could see himself spending the rest of his life with the Russian. And why wouldn't he? Ivan was so sweet and kind, always going out of his way to make the smaller man happy — and Yao _was_ happy. Everything about Ivan made the smaller man happy; the things he said, the way he looked at Yao, the kisses and touches that they shared.

Yao found himself thinking about Ivan all the time. The simplest of things reminded him of the taller man, and although he enjoyed his job, he looked forward to the end of each day when he would come home and see Ivan. It didn't matter what they were doing, Yao always enjoyed being with Ivan.

Although he had always liked Ivan, right from the first time he met him — well, the first time _after_ the accident — but recently he had begun to feel even closer to the Russian. It wasn't just infatuation, nor was it simply lust or friendship. What Yao felt for Ivan was more than that, it was stronger than that, it was…

Love.

Yao's eyes widened as the realization hit him. He loved Ivan. He was _in love_ with Ivan. Of course he was — the Russian was practically the perfect boyfriend. Although Yao could be forgiven for taking his time realizing it, he would have been a fool if he hadn't returned the taller man's love eventually.

"Yao, are you okay?" asked Ivan, looking up at the other man.

"Of course," said Yao, smiling sweetly at the Russian.

Although Yao knew that he should tell Ivan what he had just realised, somehow it didn't seem right, not here, not now. _I love you_ was a huge confession, and Yao wanted it to be special and romantic.

"You know, Ivan, after dinner we should go somewhere," said Yao, running his hand through Ivan's hair.

"Go somewhere? Do you have anywhere in mind?" Ivan asked curiously.

"Well," Yao said thoughtfully, "how about the park?"

"Sure, but won't it be dark by then?" asked Ivan.

"Probably, but that could be nice. Besides, the moon is almost full, so it wouldn't be pitch black or anything," said Yao.

Ivan nodded.

"Okay, so after our pizza, we'll go to the park. Sounds fun," he said before giving Yao a kiss on the cheek.

Yao smiled. The park would be perfect — it was beautiful, and would probably be even moreso bathed in moonlight. It would be the perfect place to tell Ivan that he was in love.

The raven-haired man blushed as he realised what would happen afterwards — he had told Ivan that he didn't want to have sex until he was in love, and now that he was in love, there was nothing stopping them.

"Why are you blushing, Yao-Yao?" asked Ivan.

"I'm not," said Yao, even though he knew it was obvious that he was.

"I think you are," said Ivan, placing a hand on the side of Yao's face, "you're so cute, Yao. I love you."

Yao smiled and kissed Ivan. It took all of his restraint not to say _I love you too_. He would say it before the night was over, but now was not the time.

* * *

><p>Yao stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel. Instead of drying himself off, he used it to wipe down the steamed-up mirror and took a moment to study his reflection, taking in every detail of the body that he was going to share with Ivan tonight. He didn't understand why the Russian loved his slim, feminine physique so much, but he was glad of it.<p>

Yao smiled as he wrapped the towel around his waist. He was looking forward to what was going to happen tonight — not just the sex, but seeing the look on Ivan's face when he told him that he was in love with him.

And the sex.

Yao dried and dressed himself and walked out into the hallway, where he found that Ivan was waiting for him.

"Are you ready to go?" asked the Russian, wrapping his arms around the smaller man.

"Yes. Are you?" asked Yao, his body pressed against Ivan's.

Ivan nodded, kissing Yao on the cheek. Yao smiled, relishing in the closeness of Ivan's body and the feeling of the taller man's lips against his skin.

"Let's go, then. Are we taking my car or yours?" asked Ivan.

"Yours, I guess," said Yao, pulling out of the Russian's embrace and taking his hand.

The two of them made their way to Ivan's car hand in hand, each step bringing them closer to the confession that would change their relationship. As much as Yao liked being Ivan's boyfriend, he was looking forward to becoming his lover. He was glad that Ivan would finally have his love once more — Yao couldn't imagine how it felt to love someone who didn't love you back, especially if that someone had loved you before. Tonight he was going to put things right, and give Ivan back what the accident had taken away from him.

* * *

><p>Although it first glance it seemed like the darkness of the night had swallowed the park's cheerful greenery, once one's eyes adjusted to the dark it was apparent that there was just as much to see in the small patch of nature hidden within the suburban neighbourhood at night as there was during the day. The black silhouettes of the trees stood tall against the starry sky and cast shadows across the moonlit grass, and the flowers that looked rather cute by the light of the sun took on an almost supernatural beauty at night.<p>

Despite the pretty surroundings, Ivan Braginsky had eyes for only one beautiful thing — the gorgeous raven-haired man who was standing beside him.

"There's the tree that we sat under the last time we were here," said Yao, pointing at one of the trees in the distance.

"How can you tell? They all look the same in the dark," said Ivan, briefly glancing at the tree before his eyes returned to the man beside him.

"Hey Ivan, I have something to tell you that I think is important," said Yao.

"What is it?" Ivan asked nervously. He hoped that it had nothing to do with his lies — although Ivan had accepted that Yao would find out eventually, he wasn't prepared for it to happen just yet.

"It's not bad," said Yao, noticing the look of worry on the taller man's face, "in fact, I think it will make you very happy."

"So what is it?" Ivan asked again, relieved but still curious.

Yao paused for a moment, as if he were working up the courage to say whatever he had to say.

"Ivan," he finally said, "I love you."


	19. May This Be Love

**For those of you who have this fic story alerted, this will be the third time you've gotten an email saying "Chapter 19 of One Little Lie has been published." Sorry about that. This is the real Chapter 19.**

* * *

><p>Ivan stared at the long-haired man standing before him, trying to formulate a response to what he had just said. <em>I love you<em>. Yao _loved_ him. He had been waiting to hear those words come out of the Chinese man's delicate little mouth for so long, and at times he had worried that he would never hear it, or that when he did, it would not mean as much to him as he had hoped.

Now, hearing Yao say those three magic words at last, Ivan knew that his worry had been for nothing.

"I love you too, Yao," said Ivan, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and holding him close against his chest, "and I'm so glad you love me too. Your love is the most precious thing in the world to me."

Yao smiled and kissed Ivan, his lips ever so lightly brushing against the other man's. The kiss was so light, so soft and so chaste. It was just like a hundred other gentle kisses that they had shared, yet at the same time, it was so very different. It was the first kiss that they had shared with Ivan knowing that Yao loved him, and because of that, it was the best kiss of Ivan's life. Although being with Yao always eased his troubles, this was different. Ivan didn't believe that he had ever been this happy before. When Yao had brought him to the park and told him that he had an important confession to make, Ivan had been afraid that Yao had remembered something — something that didn't seem quite right, something that could end their relationship. However, when Yao had said those three beautiful words, all of Ivan's worries and fears had disappeared.

"Should we go home?" asked Yao, his golden brown eyes gazing up at Ivan.

The Russian nodded, taking Yao's hand but not tearing his eyes away from the smaller man's lovely face. He looked so beautiful, now more than ever. Unlike so many others, Yao's beautiful exterior reflected his inner self; he was so kind, so amazing; Ivan didn't know what he had done to deserve the affection, the companionship and now the _love_ of someone like that.

The idea that when they got home, Yao would want to make love to him crossed Ivan's mind, but he could honestly say that it wouldn't bother him too much if they didn't do that just yet.

They were in love now — they had forever. Even though Ivan was sure that eventually Yao would find out that he had lied, perhaps if the Chinese man was truly in love with him, he would be more likely to forgive him.

Ivan pushed that thought out of his mind. Tonight was not the night for thinking about Yao leaving him. Tonight, he was loved.

It wasn't something that Ivan had felt before. Of course his parents and sisters had loved him, but that had been different. They were his family, it was expected of them. What was not expected was for someone to fall in love with him — even though Ivan had lied to Yao, it takes more than a lie to make someone fall in love. If Yao hadn't returned Ivan's affection, he could have simply told the Russian that it wasn't going to work out; it would have been so easy just to say _it's not you, it's the amnesia_ and let him go. But Yao hadn't done that — Ivan had done his best to make a good impression on the Chinese man, and his efforts had paid off. Yao was in love with him, and it felt even more amazing than Ivan had thought it would be. He'd enjoyed loving Yao even when the feeling wasn't mutual, but this was even better.

Ivan gently squeezed Yao's hand as the edge of the park came into sight.

"I love you," said Yao, turning his gaze toward Ivan, "and I love how happy you look when I say that."

"Of course it makes me happy to hear that you love me. You mean the world to me, Yao, and it's just so amazing that you actually love me back. Sometimes I wonder just what it was that I did to deserve this happiness," said Ivan.

"You're a good man, Ivan. You've been so kind and patient with this whole amnesia thing, and… how could I not love you? How could I live with someone like you and be loved so much and not feel that way about you?" asked Yao, turning to face his lover.

"We're going to be so happy together, you and I," said Ivan as he pulled the car key out of his pocket.

"We already are," said Yao, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking around to the passenger side of the car.

* * *

><p>The bed seemed even softer and warmer tonight, and Ivan's arms felt so right around Yao's body. They weren't going to consummate their relationship tonight — it was late, they were tired, and they were both content to simply lie in each other's arms for another night. Instead of a pillow, Yao laid his head on Ivan's chest, the sound of the taller man's heartbeat gently lulling him to sleep. This was how Yao wanted to spend every single night from now on, falling asleep in the arms of the man that he loved.<p>

_The man that he loved_. It felt so good to finally be able to say that he loved Ivan. The look on the bigger man's face when Yao had first said it had been so beautiful — Ivan was usually a very cheerful person, but Yao didn't think that he had ever seen the Russian so happy. It had warmed Yao's heart knowing that he had made such a difference to Ivan by saying those three simple — yet oh so powerful — words. _I love you._

Yao didn't have to feel guilty about not loving Ivan any more. Although Ivan had told him that it want his fault that he couldn't remember their relationship, the Chinese man had always felt bad about not being able to say _I love you too _whenever Ivan told him that he loved him. Yao had a feeling that Ivan knew that he felt that way, because after a while he stopped saying it so often. He still made Yao feel so special and wanted and loved, but in a way that didn't make the smaller man feel guilty.

Now, instead of Ivan's every utterance of love being followed by a kiss or a murmur of _I will love you_, Yao could return the sentiment.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: It shouldn't have taken this long for me to write such a short chapter, but I've been sick and I've also been very busy. At least I was able to churn out one more chapter before my trip, though. I'll be back on the 14th of July, and after that the regular once-a-week updating schedule will hopefully resume.<strong>


	20. Every You, Every Me

"Yao, wake up," Ivan whispered, lips inches away from the sleeping man's ear.

The raven-haired beauty lying next to him on the bed didn't stir.

"Wake up, my beautiful Yao who I love very, very much," Ivan cooed, gently shaking Yao's shoulders.

"It's Saturday," the Chinese man mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"I know," said Ivan, gently brushing away the dark strands of hair that fell across Yao's face.

"It's too early to wake up on the weekend," Yao said as he buried his face into the pillow.

"It's nine o'clock, and Chenguang is here," said Ivan.

"My mom is here?" asked Yao, opening his eyes and looking curiously at Ivan, who nodded in reply.

"She said she was sorry for dropping by unannounced, but she was in the area and she wanted to see you," the Russian explained.

"I'd better get up then. And Ivan," said Yao, pausing for a moment and looking the other man over, "I love you."

Ivan grinned.

"I love you too," he said.

Only a few days had passed since Yao had first said those words to him, but since then he had probably said it a hundred times. Still, every utterance was special — Ivan figured that it would always be like that, and that even if he and Yao were still together when they were a hundred, he would still love hearing Yao say that he loved him.

Yao got out of bed, and the two of them walked down the hall to the living room, where Yao's mother was waiting.

"Hey, mom," Yao said sleepily as he sat down on the sofa beside Chenguang.

"Good morning, Yao. Sorry, I wouldn't have come to visit if I'd known that you were still asleep," she said apologetically, "I just happened to be in the neighbourhood, and I haven't seen you and Ivan for a while, so I decided to stop by."

"It's okay, I usually wake around this time anyway," said Yao.

"Do you guys want a drink? Some tea?" asked Ivan.

"Only if you don't mind making some," said Chenguang.

"I don't mind at all! Yao?"

"Yeah, I could go for some tea," said Yao.

Ivan got up and walked into the kitchen, where he began searching through the cupboards for the tea bags. Although the food that Yao made was always delicious, Ivan had to admit that his boyfriend's favourite drink was not very appealing. Even so, Ivan didn't mind making tea for Yao — it was easy to make and it made Yao happy, and Ivan loved nothing more than pleasing the smaller man.

Once he had finished making the tea, Ivan brought the two cups out into the living room.

"Enjoy," said Ivan, handing a cup to Yao and a cup to Chenguang.

The two of them were having a rather animated conversation in Chinese, although they switched back to English not long after Ivan came back into the room.

"It's such a shame that I've got nobody to speak Chinese to but you, Yao," Chenguang said with a sigh, "the twins know a bit, but since they were born and raised here they're much more comfortable with English, and Satoru and the kids don't know any at all."

Yao sipped his tea and nodded in agreement.

"I remember helping Xiang and Mei with their Chinese lessons when we were young. It's a shame they never carried on with it, but I suppose I can understand why — learning a new language can be pretty hard. I know I struggled with English when I first started speaking it," said Yao.

Chenguang laughed.

"No you didn't, you were always very good at it. But I'm so glad that you remember things like that now," said Chenguang, "it's good that your memory is coming back."

Yao nodded.

"I'm glad too. I felt really bad not being able to remember you or the rest of the family at all. I still don't remember any of the time I spent with Ivan, but living with him and seeing him every day made it easy to fall for him again," he said, "I'm back to how it was before. I love my boyfriend, I love my mom, I love my family…"

Ivan leaned towards Yao and wrapped his arms around the dark-haired man's slender body.

"I love you too, Yao," he said, resting his head on the smaller man's shoulder.

Chenguang smiled at the two young men sitting next to her on the sofa; her beloved son and his charming Russian boyfriend.

"I'm glad that you two feel like that about each other," she said, placing a hand on Yao's shoulder — the shoulder that didn't have Ivan's head resting against it, "you're both such good people. You deserve each other's love."

Ivan grinned. He liked that Chenguang liked him and approved of his relationship with her son.

"You're nice," he said, arms still around his lover's waist, "Yao deserves at least one parent who thinks like that."

Chenguang frowned, confused.

"What do you mean? Satoru has nothing against what the two of you are doing," she said.

"No, I mean — wait, Yao didn't tell you what his dad did?" asked Ivan.

"No. What did he do?" asked Chenguang, placing her teacup on the coffee table.

She looked concerned and almost angry — Ivan knew that she didn't think very highly of her first husband, and from what he knew of the man, he couldn't blame her.

"He, uh… he called me a while back, and when I explained about the amnesia he was very concerned and caring, but when I said that I had a boyfriend, he hung up. Well, first he scolded me for forgetting how to speak Chinese and told me that I really meant girlfriend, but when I explained that I really did mean boyfriend, that's when he hung up," explained Yao, his face devoid of expression.

Chenguang let out a harsh sigh.

"At times I think that my dislike and distrust of your father is perhaps a little unreasonable, and that I'm just bitter about the things that happened when we parted. But this…"

She sighed again, glancing away.

"I'd be almost happy to know that I was right about him if what he'd done hadn't been something that hurt you, Yao."

Yao shook his head.

"It's fine, I don't care. He lives on the other side of the world, it's not like it affects me in any way," he said.

"But he's your father, Yao. Despite everything, one of his redeeming qualities was that he loved you," said Chenguang.

"And I'm sure he still does, he just needs time to get used to the fact that I'm with Ivan. Even if he never accepts that, perhaps he could accept me despite that, couldn't he?" asked Yao.

"I hope he does," said Chenguang.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, Ivan feeling kind of bad that he brought up the subject of Yao's father in the first place.

"I should probably go now, but it's been great seeing you two again. Thanks for the tea, Ivan, it was really nice," said Chenguang, standing up and moving toward the door.

"You don't have to leave so soon," said Yao.

"I have some things to do, but I'll definitely see you both soon," said Yao's mother, blowing her son a kiss before walking out the door.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything about your dad. I just thought that you might have mentioned it to her," said Ivan.

"It's fine, I don't mind," said Yao, giving Ivan a quick kiss on the cheek.

Ivan laid his head on the smaller man's chest, gently pushing him down onto the sofa.

"You're happy, right?" he asked.

Yao nodded.

"Of course," he murmured, running his fingers through Ivan's silver-blonde hair.

"So am I," said Ivan, face pressed against Yao's chest, feeling the Chinese man's heart beating against his cheek through his pyjama top.

Ivan wondered how long this bliss would last. Yao's memories were coming back, but as of yet he hadn't recovered any recent ones. Often when he remembered something, he would tell Ivan about it, and through these stories the Russian had learned about his boyfriend's childhood and family. The stories about Yao's childhood in China were mostly vague, full of details that he wasn't completely sure of — he couldn't quite remember some names and faces, and he wasn't sure whether certain events had happened in Beijing or during the year-and-a-half when he had lived in Shanghai.

The memories of his life after leaving China were much clearer. He'd regaled Ivan with many stories about his ever-growing family — aside from the twins and Kiku, the only other permanent member of Yao's family was Yong Soo, who the family had adopted when Yao was eleven. The other foster siblings came and went — Yao couldn't quite say what happened to them or where they were now, but they made for interesting tales to tell Ivan. The Russian found it rather amusing that Yao's stories about Yong Soo's extreme _fondness_ for his older brother reminded him of his own sister's obsession with him — before it had stopped being cute and started being kind of creepy.

"Yao, tell me about your family again," said Ivan, glancing up at the darkhaired man.

"Again?" asked Yao.

Ivan nodded.

"There's nothing much to tell that I haven't already," said the Chinese man.

They lay in silence for a moment before Yao gently pushed Ivan off of him.

"I need to have a shower. My hair is overdue for a wash," he said.

Ivan grabbed a fistful of Yao's long, dark locks and inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of his hair. It smelled lovely and clean, and was as soft and silky to touch as ever.

"Your hair is fine, silly," said the Russian.

"I'm going to have a shower anyway," said Yao, getting up from the sofa.

"Can I join you?" Ivan asked.

"Sure," said Yao, "just give me about five minutes to actually wash myself before you get in."

"Really? Seriously?" asked Ivan. He hadn't been expecting Yao to take his question seriously.

The smaller man nodded.

"I said yes, didn't I? We're in love, this is the sort of thing we should be doing. Besides, I think it's a little unfair that you know what my body looks like under these clothes while I don't have any memories of seeing you naked. I think it's time we change that," said Yao, giving Ivan a playful smile.

Ivan grinned as he watched Yao walk out of the room. It felt like an eternity had passed since they had awoken together after their night of passion and Yao had invited him to share the shower. Once again he would get to see Yao's wet, naked body, to touch and caress the smaller man in the most intimate ways.

Waiting had been fine — it had been more than fine; getting to know Yao and winning his heart had been amazing, but it had been too long since the Russian had last had sex. It had been hard sleeping next to Yao every night, holding him close and feeling the Chinese man's petite body against his own without knowing if or when he would finally be able to make love to him.

Yao had wanted to wait, and Ivan had wanted to honour Yao's wishes. He could never live with himself if he had forced his lover into doing something that he didn't want to do.

Ivan got up from the sofa. Yao had said to come in after five minutes, and although the Russian didn't know exactly how long it had been, surely enough time had passed. Besides, the smaller man was probably just as eager as Ivan was for them to be together.

Trying hard not to rush, Ivan grabbed a towel from the hall closet and opened the bathroom door.

"Ivan?" asked Yao, pulling the shower curtain back and poking his head out.

His hair was wet and loose from his hairband, dripping onto his bare shoulder. That was all that the Russian could see of his raven-haired lover, but it was enough to excite him and make him crave more.

"Is it okay if I come in now?" he asked, placing his towel next to Yao's on the towel rack.

The smaller man nodded and disappeared behind the shower curtain.

Heart racing, Ivan unbuttoned his pyjama shirt and slipped it off, his pants and boxers joining the first garment in a pile on the floor. The Russian took a deep breath and pulled the shower curtain back, quickly stepping in beside Yao before closing it again.

Ivan looked down, taking in the sight of Yao's beautiful, naked, _wet_ body before his eyes settled on the smaller man's face. His cheeks were pink, but he did not look embarrassed — instead, he seemed happy and in love; he looked exactly the way Ivan felt.

"I didn't quite finish rinsing my hair," Yao said, placing a kiss on Ivan's lips, "do you mind if I finish?"

"I don't mind," said Ivan.

He was surprised that he as able to speak at all; being close to Yao like this was _exhilarating_.

Yao turned so that his head was under the stream of water flowing from the shower head and began running his hands through his long, dark hair. Ivan was content to just admire Yao's body; his eyes travelled down past the scar on the smaller man's otherwise flawless skin to his backside.

Ivan thought back to another morning and another shower, mere hours before the car crash. Yao had wanted to finish washing his hair before doing anything then too, but Ivan had been impatient. He hadn't known how long he would have Yao for then, and he had wanted to touch that perfect body as much as he could before their intimacy was over. Although he still didn't know how long their relationship would last, Ivan had become a very patient man. Even though just thinking about how he had touched Yao the last time they showered together, the feeling of Yao's member in his hand and the look on the smaller man's face were enough to make the blood rush to Ivan's organ, he was content just to watch and wait.

Yao turned back to Ivan and gave the Russian a flirtatious smile.

"You're quite… _big_," he said, glancing down at Ivan's hardening member.

Ivan grinned.

"You're quite beautiful," he said in reply.

Yao smiled and reached upwards, grabbing the detachable shower head and bringing it down so that the water was gently spraying against Ivan's cock. He moved it up and down, changing the angle so that the spray alternated between the tip and the base of the bigger man's member. The warm water was practically massaging Ivan's cock, and it sent shudders of pleasure coursing through his body.

It occurred to Ivan that Yao must have done this before — he seemed to know what he was doing, so he had probably experimented with the shower head during his solitary showers.

"You've done this yourself?" Ivan asked the other man.

"Maybe," was all Yao said in reply.

That sounded a lot like a _yes_.

"I love you," Ivan said, placing a kiss on Yao's lips.

Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan's body, the shower head spraying aimlessly at the wall as their kiss continued.

"I love you too," Yao said when their lips finally parted.

They stood there for a moment, arms around each other. The water that rebounded off the wall trickled down Ivan's lower back, but he could barely feel it — he couldn't concentrate on anything other than Yao.

Without looking, the smaller man put the shower head back in its place and wrapped his arm around Ivan again, moving a leg up so that it was encircling the Russian's waist. Ivan could feel Yao's entire body pressed against his own. The smaller man moved his hips so that his manhood rubbed against the Russian's, letting out a long, soft moan. Ivan grunted and began to move his body in time with Yao's, claiming the smaller man's lips as he did.

Yao did nothing to protest, his tongue delving into Ivan's mouth as the one of bigger man's hands moved down to settle on his behind. With his other hand, Ivan pressed a thumb against one of Yao's nipples. The Chinese man moaned as Ivan teased the sensitive bud, gently squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger. Yao threw his head back and let out a wail, pressing his lower body as hard as he could against Ivan.

The Russian loved how the right touch in the right place reduced Yao to putty in his hands. It was too easy — but seeing Yao so turned on did the same thing to Ivan. Although he didn't blush or moan or squirm the way his lover did, Ivan was consumed with both love and lust for the gorgeous Chinese man. Even after all the time that they had spent together, Ivan still found it hard to believe that Yao was his — although it felt so right, it seemed strange that he was actually holding this beautiful, amazing, near-perfect person in his arms.

"I love you," Ivan murmured, his voice husky.

Yao panted something that sounded a lot like _I love you too_, although Ivan couldn't be quite sure.

The smaller man stumbled back so that he was leaning against the wall of the shower, finding the Russian's mouth once more and kissing with desperate fervour, his petite body grinding against Ivan's bigger one. He clung tightly to the taller man, nails digging into his back. Ivan barely noticed the pain — all he could feel was Yao's body against his, Yao's lips against his, Yao's member grinding against his own and the pleasure sensation that he felt all over his body with every thrust, every touch, every move.

"I-Ivan," Yao whimpered, gazing up at the other man.

God, he looked so irresistible, all wet and naked and pink-cheeked and panting and so obviously turned on. Ivan pressed his lips against Yao's once more, his eyes squeezed shut as he moved his body in time with his lover's.

Pleasure overcame him and Ivan found himself losing control, spilling his seed as a frantic cry of Yao's name escaped his lips. Time seemed to slow down; it was as of nothing existed other than him, Yao and this feeling of ecstasy that was flooding through his entire body.

"Ivan… I love you so much," he heard Yao say.

The Russian's knees grew weak, and next thing he knew, he was sitting on the floor of the shower, back against the wall, still panting and out of breath.

"God, I love you so much," he murmured, taking Yao's hand as the smaller man sat down beside him.

Yao laid his head on the Russian's shoulder, the water washing them clean and leaving only their flushed faces and breathlessness as evidence of what they had just done.

"That was amazing," Yao breathed, wrapping his arm around Ivan's shoulder, "was it as good as it used to be?"

"Better," said Ivan.

That much was true — feeling Yao's body against his own like that was even better than how they had spent their first night together. It hadn't been as physically intimate as their one night stand, but loving Yao and knowing that the Chinese man loved him back made it special.

"Really?" Yao asked, sounding a little surprised.

"Going so long without doing anything intimate made it more meaningful," said Ivan.

Yao nodded.

"It means a lot to me that you waited," he said.

"It shouldn't. What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I forced you into doing something you didn't want to do?" asked Ivan.

"That would be wrong, I know, but it's still good that you've been so understanding," said Yao.

Ivan smiled and gazed absentmindedly and his lover. Yao had such a beautiful body — he was slender and androgynous with smooth, flawless skin. Even though the feeling of orgasm had faded, there was something blissful about just sitting there with Yao, basking in the afterglow of their intimacy.

They stayed like that until Yao finally turned the water off.

"Are you going to get out?" asked Yao as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel.

"Maybe. Maybe I just want to watch you," said Ivan.

Yao gave the Russian a playful smile as he began to dry himself off.

"If you want to actually have a shower, I'll leave so you can have some privacy," said Yao.

"No, no," said Ivan, slowly getting to his feet, stepping out of the shower and picking up his towel.

Yao turned to Ivan and placed a kiss on the tip of the bigger man's nose.

"I love you," said the smaller man, his towel now wrapped firmly around his waist.

"I love you too," said Ivan, wrapping his arms around Yao and kissing him back.

Although they were almost naked, the only fabric between them being the towel that Yao was wearing, the embrace was sweet and almost chaste, just like the kiss that they were sharing. Ivan was glad of that — he had not taken the gentle kisses they had shared while getting to know each other for granted.

"Are you hungry?" asked Yao when they eventually broke apart.

"A little," Ivan admitted, although his thoughts were mostly preoccupied by things other than food.

"I'll make us breakfast," said Yao, wandering across the hall to the bedroom as Ivan followed.

"We should have breakfast in bed," said Ivan, sitting on his towel on the edge of the bed and watching Yao pull on his clothes.

The smaller man nodded in reply.

"Sounds good. I'll go cook something up, and you can get dressed — or not, I don't mind at all if you don't," said Yao.

Ivan grinned.

"Of course you don't," he teased as he pulled Yao close and kissed him again. Ivan could feel Yao's damp hair tickling his forehead and smell the scent of the other's shampoo.

"You are perfection," Ivan murmured.

"Nobody's perfect," said Yao, his golden brown eyes inches from the Russian's violet ones.

"You're as close as a person can get to perfect," said Ivan.

"You're so sweet," said Yao.

They shared one more kiss before Yao left the room, Ivan staying behind.

As the Russian pulled on a pair of boxers, he smiled at the memory of what they had just done and the possibilities of the things that were to come — not just sex, but living together and loving each other for what Ivan hoped would be a long time. Yao's memories would come back, but until then, they were hopelessly in love, and after that — well, there was no way of knowing.

* * *

><p>The bedroom looked different — although it wasn't unrecognizable, Yao had certainly been busy while Ivan was out at the supermarket. The clutter was gone, Yao's panda and Hello Kitty related things were nowhere to be seen and the room was lit entirely by candles. On the bedside table was a vase full of assorted flowers, which Ivan recognised as being from Yao's garden.<p>

"What did you do to our room? It's beautiful, but is there any reason you did this?" Ivan asked the smaller man, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I thought that since we got pretty intimate in the shower this morning, we might have sex tonight, and I wanted the room to look nice," said Yao.

Ivan smiled, sitting down beside Yao and putting his arm around the other man's shoulder.

"Do you _want_ to do it tonight?" asked Ivan, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. This was the moment that he had been waiting for — the consummation of their love.

Yao nodded, giving Ivan a quick kiss before moving so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, back against the wall. He beckoned Ivan closer, and the Russian took no time at all to move so that he was kneeling in front of Yao, his lips and hands easily finding their place on the Chinese man's body.

Ivan sat down beside Yao and kissed the smaller man on the lips, his hands exploring the Chinese man's body, one creeping beneath his shirt and the other pressed against his groin.

Yao's cheeks turned pink, and Ivan grinned. There was nothing that turned him on more than seeing the dark-haired man like this. Yao inched closer to the Russian and tugged his scarf off before beginning to unbutton the other man's shirt. Once all of the buttons were undone, Ivan slipped out of the shirt, and before he could begin to help Yao out of his clothes, the smaller man reached for the zip on the other's jeans.

Feeling Yao's fingers so close to his member was exhilarating, and by the time Yao tugged Ivan's pants down, the bulge in his boxers was huge.

Ivan watched the smaller man's reaction as he pulled down the garment, freeing the Russian's sizable erection.

"You're… big," said Yao, his eyes wide with surprise and his cheeks a deep pink.

Yao had seen it before, during their shared shower — he'd commented on Ivan's size then as well — but perhaps Ivan's member was even more striking up close, and meant more to Yao now that it was going to go inside of him.

"Don't worry, it fits," Ivan reassured the Chinese man. He didn't want Yao to be discouraged by his size — he had fit inside the smaller man without hurting him the first time they did it, so there was really no reason for him to be worried.

Yao blushed, his eyes taking in the rest of Ivan's bare body. He had seen it all before, yet he was still enthralled by the sight of it. The Russian could almost _feel_ the other man's eyes on his naked skin.

"You have a beautiful body," said Yao, reaching his hand out and gently running a finger over the tip of Ivan's manhood.

As light as it was, that touch made Ivan's entire body shudder with pleasure. Yao noticed this reaction and repeated the motion, this time with his thumb as his fingers wrapped around the organ. Slowly. Yao began to move his hand up and down, sending waves of pleasure coursing through the bigger man's body. Almost as arousing was the look of concentration on Yao's face as he pleasured his lover. How could he look so serious while doing something so erotic?

Suddenly, Yao pulled his hand away from Ivan's member. Before Ivan could ask why, Yao began pulling his own clothes off.

"Let me help you with that," said Ivan.

Ivan grabbed the sides of Yao's t-shirt and pulled the garment up over the smaller man's head. He paused for a moment to admire the smaller man's chest, the pink buds on his chest already hard from arousal, before yanking Yao's pants and boxers down in one swift motion.

Ivan didn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful. Yao had the most amazing body; he was slender and dainty, with smooth skin and a shapely, round butt. Right now, his cheeks were flushed pink and his member was standing at attention, and it was simply the most arousing thing.

Ivan leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Yao, kissing the other man softly on the lips and revelling in the feeling of Yao's body against his own. Gently, he pushed the smaller man down so that he was lying on the bed beneath them as Yao wrapped his own arms around the bigger man and then did the same with his legs. Ivan could feel his hard cock pressed against Yao's, and couldn't help but move his hips so that his member rubbed against the other man's. Yao let out a moan of approval, his eyes squeezed shut with what Ivan hoped was pleasure — the same pleasure that he felt coursing through his body with every touch.

"Yao," he breathed, "are you ready?"

The smaller man nodded, still moving his waist rhythmically against Ivan.

Ivan reached out and opened the bedside table drawer, fumbling around inside until he grabbed a small bottle. Lubricant — if Yao had found it in the drawer before tonight, he hadn't questioned it, but why would he? As far as the Chinese man knew, they'd had a sexual relationship before the accident; _of course_ there would be lube somewhere in the bedroom.

"Let me do it," said Yao, taking the bottle from Ivan and pouring some of the substance onto his hand, which he then smeared all over Ivan's manhood. "Is that enough?"

Ivan nodded, looking down at his lube-coated member and then back up at Yao.

"Okay, I guess I'll just…" Yao's sentence trailed off as he repositioned himself so that he was on all fours, looking over his shoulder expectantly at the man behind him.

It reminded Ivan of the first night they spent together, but he found himself wanting things to play out a little differently.

"Yao… if you lie on your back, we can kiss and make eye contact while we do it," he suggested.

"Oh," said Yao, moving again so that he was resting on his back once more.

"I'm, ah, going to prepare you now," said Ivan.

Yao spread his legs and, ever so gently, Ivan inched one of his lubricant-coated fingers into the smaller man's tight hole.

"Is that okay? Can I put a second finger in or do you need a little longer to get used to one?" asked Ivan.

As much as he wanted to finally get going, Ivan knew that Yao's comfort was more important than his own sex drive. He had waited this long to make love to Yao, he could wait a little bit longer.

"I'm fine," Yao panted, "you can put another one in."

Ivan slowly slid another finger inside Yao. Although he was concentrating on the task at hand, he found himself distracted by the other man's moans and whimpers.

"Does it hurt?" Ivan asked.

"No," said Yao, "it does feel strange, though."

"Good strange or bad strange?" Ivan asked as he gently moved his fingers apart, stretching Yao's tight entrance to make room for a third.

"G-good, I guess," said Yao.

"That's good," said Ivan.

Although this wasn't the first time he had done this, he'd never had it done to himself, so he didn't know what Yao was feeling right now. Was he in pain? The smaller man had said that it didn't hurt, but perhaps he was lying so that Ivan didn't stop. Or perhaps he liked it — Yao's manhood was still standing at attention, so perhaps he was deriving some sort of pleasure from these intimate touches.

Ivan slipped a third finger into Yao's entrance and waited a moment before beginning to move it about. It didn't take long before it looked just about wide enough to take Ivan's manhood, at which point the Russian positioned the tip of his organ at Yao's entrance.

"Are you ready?" asked Ivan, his hands on Yao's hips as he readied himself to go in.

"Y-yes," Yao whimpered.

Slowly and gently, Ivan eased himself into Yao, enjoying the look on his lover's face and how tight he felt around the bigger man's member. When he could no longer push himself any deeper into the tight tunnel, he leaned down to kiss Yao gently on the lips, feeling the other man's member hard against his body.

"I love you," Yao whispered when his lips left Ivan's, his golden brown eyes half-lidded and his cheeks pink. He looked so beautiful, so adorable, so _fuckable_.

"I love you too," Ivan replied, gently moving his hips so that his manhood moved in and out of Yao.

The smaller man moaned appreciatively, and Ivan picked up the pace, pleasure surging through his body with every movement. Yao moved in time with Ivan, his own member grinding against Ivan's body as he gently kissed the Russian's lips. Ivan found it amazing how Yao could kiss him so sweetly, just as he had kissed him when they had first gotten to know each other, while they were doing something so passionate and sexual.

"Harder," Yao whimpered.

Ivan obliged, thrusting deeper and harder into the Chinese man. As beautiful and delicate looking as Yao was, he certainly wasn't fragile. He certainly didn't look like the sort of person who could stand an enormous cock pounding into his behind, but the look on his face and the noises coming out of his mouth told the Russian that not only could Yao bear it, he _loved_ it.

When one of his frenzied thrusts caused Yao to let out a particularly loud wail and dig his nails into the bigger man's back, Ivan knew that he had found the spot that would make Yao lose control. He could tell that he himself was getting close to finishing, and angled his member so that it would hit Yao's sweet spot again. With one hand still wrapped around the other man's body, Ivan reached down with the other to give some love to Yao's neglected member, jerking it in time with the rhythmic thrusting of his cock.

"Y-yao…" Ivan whimpered, barely capable of speech, "I love you… I'm going to—"

"Ivan… Ivan… I love you too," Yao moaned.

Ivan thrust one last time into Yao's tight cavern with a grunt and released himself, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he orgasmed. Giddy from the sheer pleasure of it all, Ivan gave Yao's manhood a final jerk and felt his hand fill with a warm sticky substance before his body collapsed onto his lover's.

Neither of them spoke, both breathing so heavily that it would probably be impossible to say a word anyway. Ivan vaguely registered his softening manhood and the cool night air against the parts of his body not pressed against the other man, but as the orgasmic bliss began to fade, the only thing on his mind was Yao.

"I love you," Yao finally panted.

"I love you too," Ivan said, opening his eyes and looking at the beautiful man beneath him.

Yao gently kissed Ivan on the lips.

"Tired?" he asked. Ivan nodded — their act of intimacy had been physically and emotionally draining, and he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with Yao in his arms. He pulled out, moving so that he was no longer lying on top of the other man.

"I'm going to have the quickest shower ever and come back to bed. I won't be more than about five minutes," said Yao.

"Of course," said Ivan.

He _had_ just released himself inside of Yao, so of course the smaller man would need to clean himself up, and Ivan wasn't so clingy that he couldn't bear to spend a few minutes without his lover.

True to his word, Yao took no time at all in the shower. Still naked, he slipped back under the blanket, having blown all of the candles out before he left for the bathroom, and snuggled close to Ivan, who was ready for sleep.

"I love you," whispered Yao, wrapping his arms around the taller man's body.

"I love you too," Ivan whispered back, finding Yao's lips in the dark and gently kissing them.

After a few more kisses, whispers and giggles, the two of them settled into comfortable positions, both exhausted. Ivan could feel Yao's heart beating, the darkhaired man's bare chest pressed against his own, and it was the rhythm of his lover's heartbeat that he fell asleep to.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**I'm back! From here on out I should be able to stick to my regular updating schedule of one chapter per week, give or take a few days.**

**If the sex scene seemed a little familiar, that's because it's a rework of the original Chapter 19 — for all its faults, the sex itself wasn't too shabby, so I decided to salvage it.**

**My headcanon for Yao's siblings is that the core family is made up of Kiku, Yong Soo, Xiang and Mei. The others, while still part of the family, aren't quite as close — this is influenced more by the fandom's portrayal than anything in actual history.**

**Anyway, thanks for being patient with me, and also for all your feedback! Since the site introduced the option to sort stories by reviews and follows, I've discovered that One Little Lie ranks quite highly amongst other RoChu stories, and I have all my lovely readers to thank for that. You guys are amazing!**


	21. Sympathy For the Devil

It was a loud banging on the door that finally woke Yao from his deep slumber. Glancing at Ivan, who was still fast asleep, the smaller man sighed and sat up. He would much rather spend the morning relaxing with the Russian and not even _think_ about getting out of bed until noon, but it seemed that whoever was at the door had other ideas.

After climbing over Ivan's sleeping figure to get out of bed, Yao grabbed his boxers and dressing gown. He hoped that whoever was knocking wouldn't be able to guess from his messy hair and state of undress what he had done last night — Yao knew that his friends, particularly Francis, would have a lot of questions about that.

Unamused, Yao made his way through the hallway and living room and opened the front door.

Outside stood a very large man — not only was he bigger than the petite Chinese man, which was not hard to achieve, he looked to be a lot taller and more muscular than Ivan. He was pale and had a shaved head and thick stubble on his face; on his right cheek was a faded scar, and he was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. Yao guessed that the man was no older than about twenty five.

"Can I help you?" asked Yao, not even slightly intimidated by the man's large stature.

"Is Ivan Braginsky here?" asked the man.

"Yes. What do you want with him?" asked Yao.

"You could say that I'm an old friend," said the man.

"I don't recall him ever mentioning an old friend fitting your description. What did you say your name was?" asked Yao, now a little suspicious.

Ivan had told him that he didn't have any friends — he had also said that many of the people he knew from his old job were of the unsavoury kind. Although he hadn't spoken much, Yao could tell that the man didn't have an accent, so it was unlikely that it was someone that Ivan had known in Russia.

"I didn't, but if you must know, it's Eddy," said the man.

"Eddy. Huh. I'll tell Ivan that you're here for him. Come in," said Yao, turning and heading toward the bedroom, where he found that Ivan was still asleep.

"Hey, wake up," he said, gently shaking Ivan's shoulders.

The Russian's violet eyes fluttered open, brows furrowing when he saw the concerned expression on Yao's face.

"What's wrong?" Ivan asked sleepily.

"Some guy is here for you. He says his name is Eddy. You know anyone called Eddy?" asked Yao.

"Oh, fuck," Ivan cursed, sitting up in bed.

"What is it?" asked Yao, grabbing some clothes out of the dresser drawers without taking his eyes off of Ivan.

"Eddy was the name of the thug that killed Novikov," said Ivan.

"Do you have any idea why he's here?" asked Yao.

Although he wasn't exactly afraid, he certainly didn't like the idea of having a man who could snap a neck with his bare hands in his house. Eddy did fit the description that Ivan had give of Novikov's killer — tall and very muscular.

"No. I haven't seen him since that night — I don't even know why he's here," said Ivan.

"Do you want to know why he's here, or do you want me to tell him to go away?" asked Yao, pulling on a pair of jeans.

"I'll see him, just tell him to wait a few minutes," said Ivan.

Yao nodded, tugging a loose sweater over his head before heading back out to the living room.

"Ivan there?" asked Eddy, who was now sitting on the sofa.

He looked so out of place in Yao's living room — a huge, leather-clad man like that did not belong on a sofa littered with Hello Kitty and panda toys (in Yao's defense, he usually kept the plushies in the bedroom, but he had moved them last night as they didn't really fit the romantic theme he had been trying to convey).

"You and Ivan got a kid?" asked Eddy, glancing at the plushies.

Yao shook his head.

"I was gonna say, I thought you were his boyfriend, though you don't really look like it," said Eddy.

"I _am_ Ivan's boyfriend," said Yao, a little miffed that Eddy was implying he looked like a girl.

"I know, I don't have a problem with that," said Eddy.

"Good," said Yao.

They sat in silence for a moment, Yao busying himself with a loose thread on the sleeve of his sweater. He looked back up and found that Eddy was watching him — it was more than a little unnerving.

"Why did you do it?" Yao asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

"Do what?" Eddy asked, the look on his face betraying the fact that he already knew.

"Why did you kill Novikov?" the smaller man asked.

"And how is that any of your business?" asked Eddy.

"It's not, but that doesn't mean I can't be curious," said Yao.

Eddy sighed.

"Novikov was involved in a lot of shady things with a lot of shady people. One of those people was a heroin dealer who forced women who were addicted to the drug but couldn't pay for it to work for him," Eddy explained.

"Work for him? As in—"

"As in he pimped them out and kept the money they earned for himself. Awful as that is, I didn't care much about it until I found out that my girl was involved," said Eddy.

"Your girlfriend was one of the girls that this guy was—"

"Yeah, yeah," said Eddy, cutting Yao off again. "Well, we weren't together at the time, but I never stopped loving her. I told Novikov all this, thinking that he owed me a favour after all I'd done for him, that he could do something to help her, but… he said he couldn't. He said he wouldn't because he didn't want to piss this friend of his off. So I got angry, and I don't really think about what I'm doing when I'm angry."

Yao remembered how Ivan had told him that after snapping Novikov's neck, Eddy had stabbed him in the chest just to make sure he was dead. That didn't sound at all like the actions of a man who didn't think about what he was doing, but the Chinese man didn't question it.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" was the only question that Yao asked.

Eddy shrugged.

"If Ivan told you about Novikov, I figured that he'd tell you anything I told him," he said.

"And why does he need to know all of this?" the long-haired man asked, giving Eddy what he hoped was a look of sympathy.

"I need a favour," said Eddy, "and hopefully he'll be more likely to help if he knows the truth."

Yao nodded sombrely.

In a way, Eddy reminded him of Ivan. They were both fiercely dedicated to their loved ones — Eddy had done the unthinkable to a man who had refused to help the girl that he loved, and Yao didn't doubt that Ivan would do the same. He remembered Ivan telling him that he had beaten up kids at school who had been cruel to his sisters, how Ivan had been glad that the man driving the car that had crashed into Yao's had died, how he had gotten angry and lashed out at the boy on the street who had called them names.

Yao felt genuinely bad for Eddy. No longer was he a nameless, faceless thug or murderer — he was a man whose actions, however wrong and misguided, had been driven by love and the need to protect someone.

"So, why are you here?"

Ivan, who had just walked into the living room, sat down on the sofa between Yao and Eddy, his stance defensive, as if he were protecting his boyfriend. Yao smiled — he had been right about how similar the two men were.

"I saw an article in the paper about an attempted robbery down at Cosmos. The paper said the bartender was a man named Ivan Braginsky. It was the first time I'd heard that name in years," said Eddy.

"So you decided to pay me a friendly visit? Surely there's more to it than that," said Ivan.

"There is," said Eddy, "I need the money that you took from Novikov's safe."

"That was well over a year ago, Eddy, I don't have it any more," Ivan said.

Nothing in his tone or demeanour suggested that what he was saying wasn't true — Yao never would have guessed that his lover was such a convincing liar.

"You blew a million dollars? How did you—"

"When you have a lot of money, you develop expensive tastes, and when you do that, you run out fast. I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep it up, so I decided to try my luck at the casino. Stupid move, right? I gambled it all away," Ivan said with a sigh, sounding as if he sincerely regretted it.

"You don't have _any_ of it left? You didn't think to save anything?" asked Eddy.

"Nope, I'm pretty much broke. Thank god my Yao-Yao has a good job," said Ivan, turning to give Yao a kiss on the forehead — perhaps a signal to play along.

"You've got a pretty good job too now that you've started working at the bar," he said, "not that I minded being the one bringing home the bacon."

Ivan turned back to Eddy.

"Sorry, I can't help you. Why the hell do you need a million dollars anyway? Surely having a heroin-addicted girlfriend isn't that expensive," he said.

Eddy narrowed his eyes and leaned in close so that his face was inches from the Russian's.

"You shut up about Maria, okay? She's been clean for a long time now. I take it you heard me telling your Yao about what happened with her, right?" asked Eddy.

"Learn to take a joke! But yes, I did hear you telling Yao about that," said Ivan, unperturbed by Eddy's closeness.

"Well, killing a man is against the law, and it would be nice to go somewhere where the law can't reach me. Maria and I are gonna get outta the country, but we need a little money to start a new life. It wouldn't necessarily have to be anywhere near a million dollars, but it would have to be enough to get passports, plane tickets, a house… I guess you can't help me, though," said Eddy.

"Nyet, sorry," said Ivan.

"What about you, Yao? You don't have any rich relatives back in Japan or wherever it is you're from, do ya?" asked Eddy.

"I'm from China, and no, sorry," said Yao.

"Fair enough, man. It was worth a shot. I'll be going now," said Eddy, getting up from the sofa, "we don't really run in the same circles so I doubt I'll be seeing you any time soon."

"Take care. I hope everything goes well for you and your girlfriend," said Yao.

"Same for you two. Goodbye."

And with that, he was gone, as if he had never been there at all.

Ivan let out a sigh and sank back into the sofa.

"You're a good liar," said Yao, resting his head on Ivan's shoulder.

"It's easy to lie to people like that. People like him and Novikov and everyone else I knew back then run on dishonesty," said Ivan.

"So you don't think his story about why he killed Novikov was true?" asked Yao.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Either way, I'm not going to give him any money. I don't know what the penalty for helping a killer escape the country is, but it must be pretty hefty. Besides, my money is better spent on you and my sisters, and if Eddy managed to not get caught after all this time, I doubt he's in any real danger," said Ivan.

Yao nodded.

"I guess the fact you still have almost all of that money would be harder to believe than the lie you told," he said, "people believe a lie when it makes more sense than the truth."

"Exactly," said Ivan.

"So, to completely change the subject, what do you want to do today? We have the whole day to ourselves," said Yao, hoping that Ivan understood what he was suggesting.

"Hmmm, I don't know. We could go for a walk, or maybe we could bake cookies together, or, I don't know, how about spending the entire day making wild, passionate love?" asked Ivan.

"That cookie idea sounds pretty tempting, but I think I'd go for the third option if I had to choose," said Yao.

Ivan giggled.

"You're so precious," he said.

"No, _you're_ so precious," Yao countered, giving the bigger man a kiss.

"No, you're the most precious person ever and I love you," said Ivan, pulling the dark-haired man into his arms.

"I love you too," said Yao, returning his lover's embrace.

Yao was glad that adding a sexual aspect to their relationship hadn't changed everything — Ivan still said and did the cutest things for him. Yao couldn't believe that it had taken so long to fall in love with this man.

Still, they were together now, and they were happy. Yao couldn't think of a reason that this blissful period in their relationship would end. This was how it would always be.

* * *

><p>Head resting against the soft, comfortable pillow, Ivan looked up at his gorgeous, out of breath lover and smiled. Yao smirked back at him and leaned in closer.<p>

"I'm good, aren't I?" he asked, voice breathy and seductive.

"The best," Ivan panted as he pulled the Chinese man close and kissed him, feeling Yao's chest rise and fall against his own.

"As good as before?" asked the smaller man when their lips parted.

Ivan nodded.

"Better," he said.

_Lies_. That was the first time that Yao had ever topped him, as well as the first time that Ivan had ever bottomed, _ever_. He had slept with other men before Yao, but he had never allowed any of them penetrate his body like that. With Yao, it was different — there was no shame in letting his lover into his most intimate place. It wasn't about domination, it was about love, and this was simply another way for them to make love. Still, Ivan found pretending that he had had this done to him before a little difficult — at first, Yao's member had felt so strange and foreign inside of him, but he had told the smaller man that they had done this many times before.

Of course they would have — they had supposedly been together for a year. There was no way they would spend that much time together and spend dozens or even hundreds of nights in each other's beds and not switch positions.

Of course, Ivan was a good liar —Yao had said as much himself. Hearing his lover say those words had frightened Ivan a little, as it had reminded him how easily Yao could find out the truth. He was clever, but he still hadn't cottoned on the the fact that they were living a lie.

_People believe a lie when it makes more sense than the truth._

There was no reason for Yao to suspect that Ivan was lying — the idea that the Russian had fabricated an entire relationship seemed so far fetched and unlikely that the possibility would never cross Yao's mind. Even when he did remember something that didn't quite ring true, he would probably brush it off or think of an explanation for it that actually made sense.

But in the end, he would remember.

"Are you okay?" asked Yao, snapping Ivan out of his train of thoughts.

"I'm fine," said Ivan, "I was just thinking again about how lucky we are. You may have lost your memory, but you survived the accident, and thinking about the fact that you might not have—"

"Don't think about that. It didn't happen, so there's no need to worry," said Yao.

Ivan smiled weakly. He felt bad pretending that how close Yao had come to dying was what worried him. Although it was horrible to think about what might have happened, Ivan knew that it _hadn't_ happened and, as Yao had said, there was no need to worry.

Ivan pushed all of the thoughts concerning memories and lies to the back of his mind. There was no use in worrying about anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: Can I just say how amazing the site's new copy-and-paste mobile upload feature is? It was possible to upload fics from mobile devices before, but it was a pain in the ass and involved messing with the HTML code. The new way is so much easier — of the changes FFnet has implemented, this is the great one that makes me amazingly happy.<strong>

**Anyway, it's good to be back to my regular updating schedule, and I'm sure you're all glad that it didn't take three weeks for me to post a new chapter this time.**


	22. Sister

"You're wearing a different shirt," came a voice from behind Yao.

"Huh?" the Chinese man asked, spinning around on his office chair to find that the speaker was none other than Francis Bonnefoy.

"You were wearing a white shirt this morning, and now you're wearing a red one," said Francis.

Yao _had_ changed his shirt when he had gone home during his lunch break — he had gotten more than a little intimate with Ivan, and when he went to put his other shirt back on, he'd found that it was crumpled and in need of a good ironing — but he hadn't thought it was that noticeable.

"Well, I happen to own more than one shirt. Don't you have work you should be doing?" asked Yao.

"Oui, but this is more important. You didn't come out to lunch with the rest of us. I guess you went home, huh? What were you doing?" asked Francis, although the look on his face told the dark-haired man that he already knew.

Yao blushed. He didn't think that what he had been doing was that obvious — then again, if anyone were able to tell, it would be his French friend, who possessed a great deal of knowledge concerning sex and romance.

"I was having lunch. There were some leftovers from last night's dinner and I decided that instead of wasting them, I'd have them for lunch today," Yao lied.

"Hmmm, they mustn't have been very filling, considering the fact that you had to get something else to eat," said Francis, pointing at the half-eaten cheese and onion sandwich sitting on Yao's desk.

The smaller man sighed. He'd been to busy at lunch to actually eat lunch, so he'd quickly stopped at a café on his way back to work to get something to eat.

"I'm actually pretty sure that Matthew said he needed to see you about something really important, you should go do that now," said Yao, not wanting to discuss his private life with anyone.

"No he didn't. Yao, it's obvious that you're lying. See, you're blushing, and you're kind of sitting funny—"

"I am not sitting funny!" said Yao, suddenly very conscious of the way he was sitting. Perhaps he was sitting a little differently from normal, but it couldn't have been that noticeable.

"Yao, there's no need to pretend. I'm your friend, and you can tell me anything — you can _especially_ tell me about what you and Ivan have been doing. Come on, spill," said the Frenchman.

Yao sighed.

"Fine," he said, "I'm in love with Ivan, and we… do the sorts of things that people who are in love do."

"You love him? That's wonderful, Yao! I'm glad, you two seem like you make each other very happy," said Francis.

"We do. I love being with him," said Yao.

"So, tell me about all the sex you've been having. Don't skimp on the details, Yao, nothing is too much information for me," said Francis.

Yao rolled his eyes.

"Fine," Yao said with a sigh, "what do you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to tell me," Francis said with a smirk.

Yao took a deep breath and tried to think of something to say. Half of him wanted to tell Francis that this was none of his business, but there was another part of the Chinese man that had no qualms about telling his friend everything.

"Ivan is… he's amazing in bed. He can be so gentle and lovely, but he can also be…"

Yao struggled to think of the right word — he'd never talked about things like this before, not as far as he could remember.

"Rough?" Francis suggested.

Yao shook his head.

"Not really, more like… very, um, energetic. Fast, hard… yeah, that sort of thing," said Yao, surprised that he couldn't feel his cheeks burning.

"Mmm, very versatile. That must be nice," said Francis.

"It is. Speaking of versatile, we switch positions sometimes. It's just so amazing to see him squirming and moaning beneath me — Ivan teases me about being loud sometimes, but I know how to make him make the most obscene noises," said Yao.

_Now_ he was blushing, the mere thought of how Ivan looked and sounded in bed making him go red. He shouldn't be telling Francis all of these intimate details, but, as reluctant as e had been to start, it was hard to stop.

"How long has this been going on? Last time we talked about this you said you were waiting — how long did you wait?" asked Francis.

"We did it for the first time about two and a half weeks ago," said Yao, "one thing that's really great is that it hasn't changed our relationship — we still kiss and cuddle and watch movies together and Ivan still does the sweetest things for me."

"That sounds beautiful," said Francis.

"It is. But is that enough information? I was working before you came and started interrogating me," asked Yao.

Francis nodded.

"For now, at least," he joked, "but Yao?"

"Yeah?"

"If you ever need someone to talk to about this sort of thing — not just sex, anything to do with your relationship — I am a fountain of knowledge where love is concerned," said Francis.

"Of course," said Yao, "but, ah, did we know each other in college? I've started remembering a couple of things from back then and I think I remember you."

Francis nodded.

"We weren't close back then, but we did go to the same college and we would have seen each other around. Ah, that was when I first came to America… so many strange things to get used to…" the Frenchman said nostalgically, "but it's good you're remembering more recent things. Perhaps soon you'll remember working with all of us."

"Yeah, I hope. I really want to remember Ivan, though. Sure, I fell in love with him all over again, but it would be nice to remember how it happened the first time," said Yao.

"Of course, and I'm sure you will," said Francis.

Yao smiled.

"Yeah, I can wait. I'm good at waiting," he said, spinning back around on his chair so that he was facing the computer.

"I guess I'll see you later," said Francis, turning to leave.

"Yeah, bye," said Yao, resuming the work that he had been doing before his coworker had come in.

He hoped that Ivan wouldn't mind the fact that he had been telling another person about their sex life — even though he had only said good things about the Russian's performance, perhaps these were things that his lover wouldn't want anyone to know. Yao sighed, cursing Francis for being so persuasive and himself for not being reluctant to tell him those sorts of things.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Yao, come sit with me," said Ivan, looking up from his laptop as the smaller man walked through the front door.<p>

"Where'd you get that?" asked Yao.

"I bought it today. My sister got a webcam, so I decided to buy a laptop with a built in camera so I can do video calls with her," the Russian explained, "I'm talking to her right now — I bet she'd love to meet you."

Yao smiled and sat down on the sofa beside his boyfriend, peering at the laptop. On the screen was a video feed of a young woman with short blonde hair and — Yao felt a little embarrassed that this was the first thing he noticed about Ivan's sister — very large breasts.

She said something in Russian, and Ivan replied in his own language before turning to Yao.

"Anastasiya says that she's heard lots of nice things about you, and she also says that she's very grateful that you've made me so happy," said Ivan.

"Thank you is spasibo, right?" asked Yao.

Ivan nodded.

"Spasibo, Anastasiya," Yao said, aware that his pronunciation was probably less than stellar.

He turned back to Ivan.

"Is your other sister there?" he asked.

"Natalia is asleep. It's very early in the morning in Russia right now, but Anastasiya wakes very early so she can work on the farm. She got up extra early today so she can talk to me," Ivan explained.

"Does Natalia know about me?" asked Yao.

"No. I only told Anastasiya about you today, but I don't think I'm going to tell Natalia. She's… as I said, she's very possessive of me," said Ivan.

Anastasiya said something that Yao didn't understand, and then for a minute or two, she and her brother conversed together in Russian. The Chinese man understood a word here and there — yes, no, people's names — but most of the conversation was lost on him.

It was strange seeing Ivan talking to someone that he was very comfortable with — although the Russian got along well with Yao's mother and friends, he was a lot more reserved around them than he was when the two of them were alone. With his sister, though, he was very talkative and outgoing. It made sense, since he had known her for all of his life, but it was nice to see Ivan like this.

"Anastasiya says that from what she's heard about you, she thinks that our parents would have liked you a lot," said Ivan.

Yao smiled at the compliment before noticing that both Ivan and Anastasiya looked kind of sad. It took him a moment to realise that it was because their parents had died — even if Yao was the sort of person that they would like their son to date, they would never get to meet him.

"My sister would like you to tell her about your family," said Ivan, translating what Anastasiya had just said.

"Really? Okay, um, my mom and stepdad are really nice, and they both like Ivan a lot. My mom especially, she thinks he's great. I've got a lot of siblings, actually. The twins, Xiang and Mei, they're the only ones who are actually related to me. I have a step brother called Kiku and a lot of foster siblings," said Yao, pausing every so often so that Ivan could translate for Anastasiya, "my real dad lives in China, and he, um, doesn't really… he doesn't like that I'm dating Ivan."

As his boyfriend continued telling Anastasiya what he had just said, Yao sighed and rested his head on Ivan's shoulder. Talking about his father was a weird experience — it was hard to accept that the man who he had spoken to on the phone was the same father that he remembered from his youth. Yao remembered that his father, whose name had been Aiguo, had been rather stern and strict, but he had thought the world of his young son. Even Chenguang, who Yao knew hated Aiguo, admitted that the man had genuinely loved his child. He remembered, vaguely, the arguments that his parents had had about Chenguang wanting to leave — Aiguo didn't care at all that it meant he would never see his wife again or even get to meet the twins, but he wasn't about to let her take Yao away from him.

Aiguo wasn't willing to leave the country with Chenguang either, and in the end, he chose that over Yao. Reluctantly, perhaps even bitterly, but he made his choice.

Yao sighed. He had told himself to stop thinking about his father, and he had actually managed until now.

"Yao," came Ivan's voice from beside him.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" asked the Russian.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Gonna start cooking dinner, actually," said Yao, getting up from the sofa.

"Okay," said Ivan, blowing Yao a kiss before turning his attention back to his computer.

* * *

><p>Ivan closed the laptop and set it down on the coffee table, wandering into the kitchen where Yao was making dinner.<p>

"What are you cooking?" asked Ivan, sitting down at the counter.

"Spaghetti," said Yao, turning around and smiling at Ivan.

"We're not having Chinese food tonight?" asked the bigger man.

"Well, pasta dishes like this are really just the Italian version of noodles, which originated in China. But no, we're having western food tonight — figured it'd be nice to have something completely different for a change," said Yao.

"I like Chinese food, but I'm sure anything you cook would taste amazing," said Ivan.

He wasn't just saying it to flatter Yao; the Russian really liked his boyfriend's cooking. Perhaps he liked it a little too much — since moving in with the Chinese man, Ivan had gained weight. It wasn't at all noticeable under the bulky clothes he usually wore, but surely Yao, the only person who got to see what he was like underneath, had noticed. His was the only opinion that mattered to Ivan.

"Yao-Yao, you love me no matter what, right?" asked Ivan.

"I'll love you as long as you stay sweet, lovable and amazing like you are now," said Yao.

"What if I looked different?" asked Ivan.

"Well, you're beautiful the way you are now, but if you wanted to, I don't know, dye your hair or get a tattoo or alter your appearance in some way, that wouldn't change who you are, so it wouldn't change how I feel about you," said Yao.

Ivan smiled.

"I'll always love you too. I know I always say that you're beautiful, but there's so much more I love about you," he said.

"I love you too," said Yao, "and dinner's almost ready. Do you want to set the table?"

"Okay," Ivan said as he got up from his seat.

"Thanks," said Yao, watching the Russian as he grabbed the right amount of knives and forks from the cutlery drawer and set them out on the table.

"Need any more help?" Ivan asked.

Yao shook his head, and the Russian sat down at the table. This was nice — as much as Ivan loved touching Yao, whether it was a kiss or something far more intimate, he also enjoyed just spending time with the other man. The two of them were so comfortable with each other, it was as if they were close friends as well as lovers.

Ivan sighed. That friendship was one more thing that he was afraid to lose — Yao had said that he loved him because he was so sweet and amazing, but lying about something huge and important like _their entire relationship _probably wasn't considered sweet or amazing. Perhaps, even if he were mad at Ivan (and rightfully so, the Russian supposed), Yao would realise that the lie had made them both so happy and be reluctant to give up that happiness.

Of course, that was only one way it could play out — Ivan had imagined dozens and dozens of others, some good but most not. Most of the time, though, he just ignored it and pretended that it wasn't a problem.

That was something he had in common with Yao — Ivan knew that his boyfriend did the same thing about what had happened with his father. He didn't talk about it and probably tried his hardest not to think about it either.

Maybe that was the best way to do things.


	23. Liar

_"Hey, Yao, where are you going?" asked Alfred, bounding up to the Chinese man._

_"Soates' office. I'm giving him the Thursday meeting data," said Yao, not breaking his stride._

_"Last Thursday's meeting or the one planned for next Thursday?" asked Alfred, walking alongside the other down the otherwise deserted hallway._

_"The data from the last meeting," said Yao._

_"That's good, cuz I'm giving him the data for next Thursday's meeting. Hey, do you wanna take my files to him for me?" asked the American, holding his folder out for Yao to take._

_"Do it yourself," said Yao._

_"Please? I can't be bothered going all the way up to his office," said Alfred, "I'll give you some chocolate if you do it."_

_Yao frowned._

_"Don't bribe me," he said, "I have done you a lot of favours recently, so the least you can do in return is give me some chocolate without asking for anything in return."_

_"Fine. It's in my cubicle so I'll give it to you later," said Alfred._

_"Very good," Yao said with a smirk._

_The two of them chatted about trivial, unimportant things until they reached Soates' office. Yao raised his hand to knock on the door, but Alfred simply turned the handle and pushed the door open._

_"Yao and I—"_

_The American stopped dead in the middle of his sentence, silenced by the sight in front of him. Soates was sitting as his desk, his tie loose and his hair dishevelled, his hands on the hips of a blonde woman who was sitting on top of the desk. The woman turned her head to look at the two young men who had entered the room, and Yao was surprised to find that she was older than he had expected — she looked to be in her forties, the Chinese man guessed. Her blouse was unbuttoned, exposing a lacy pink bra, and Yao couldn't help but think that this woman, whoever she was, looked very familiar._

_"What the… _what the fuck_?" Alfred asked, and suddenly everything clicked into place._

_Yao understood why the woman looked so familiar — it wasn't just because she was Tracy Foster-Jones, the best-selling author of those teen romance books that Mei was so fond of. Sure, Yao had seen her on the TV and in newspapers more times than he could count, but that was not the reason she looked so familiar — this woman was Alfred's mother, and she looked so much like her son — the colour of her hair, the shape of her face; it was obvious that the young man standing next to Yao was related to her._

_"Both of you," Soates growled, "out of my office."_

_Yao wasted no time leaving — it felt so wrong intruding on this intimate scene, especially since he was there with Alfred, and it was the American man's mother who was sitting on that desk._

_"That was… that was my mom," Alfred said, leaning against the wall of the hallway outside Soates' office._

_Yao nodded._

_"I'm sorry," he said, unsure of what to say._

_"Why the hell would she do that? She's friends with his wife, for god's sake. And what about my dad?" Alfred asked._

_"I don't know," Yao said quietly._

_He felt sorry for Alfred — he knew that the other man adored his mother and was so proud of her success as a writer. Yao could hardly imagine how he must be feeling, knowing that the woman who had raised him, who he loved and looked up to, was doing something like this._

_"I'm going to go," said Yao, turning to walk away._

_Alfred should at least have some privacy if he were going to talk to his mother about what had happened — Yao had no place intruding on that._

_"No," said Alfred, grabbing the Chinese man's wrist, "please stay."_

_Yao nodded, turning back around without asking any questions — he didn't understand why Alfred wanted him here, but he wasn't going to say no to him at a time like this. It struck Yao how _young _Alfred was — they worked at the same job, so it was easy to forget that Alfred was seven, nearly eight years younger than him, a teenager who still lived with his parents and was filled with an exuberant, youthful optimism._

_"Thank you," said Alfred, letting go of the smaller man's hand, "you're a good friend."_

* * *

><p>Yao sat up in bed and leaned across the sleeping body next to him for his phone, which he had left on the bedside table.<p>

"Yao, it's the middle of the night," murmured the not-so-asleep Russian who was lying next to him.

"I'm sorry, I need to call Alfred," said Yao, "I'll go into another room, you can go back to sleep."

"Why do you need to call Alfred at this hour?" Ivan asked sleepily as Yao climbed over him and got out of bed.

"He lied to me about something," Yao said grabbing his dressing gown and slipping it over his bare body, "I just need to tell him that I remember what actually happened."

Yao kissed Ivan on the forehead and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He walked into the spare room where his painting stuff was kept, sat down at the desk and dialled Alfred's number.

"Yao, what the heck, dude? It's like, midnight," Alfred said sleepily.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" asked Yao.

"No, no. You did scare the shit outta my cat, though." said the American, sounding a little more alert.

"Sorry, I just remembered something," said Yao.

"Yeah? What was it?" asked Alfred.

"It was what really happened when we went to Soates' office that one time. It wasn't Jenna Maxwell. I don't think that Jenna Maxwell is even a real person," said Yao.

He heard Alfred sigh over the phone.

"Okay, you got me. I lied. I just didn't think that you really needed to know that about my mom, and when I told you Ivan was listening too and he's not even involved in what happened," said Alfred.

"That's fine, I get it, but if you've lied about anything else, please tell me. That sort of thing can't be good for my recovery of real memories," said Yao.

"That was the only thing I lied about, I promise," said Alfred.

"Okay, I believe you," said Yao, "I'll let you go now. Tell your cat that I'm sorry for disturbing her."

"It's a he, and sure. Goodnight, Yao."

"Goodnight, Alfred."

* * *

><p>As soon as he heard the door open, Ivan closed his eyes, pressed his face into the pillow an pretended to be asleep. He didn't want to talk to Yao — not now, not when the smaller man was thinking about lies and maybe wondering if anyone else had lied to him.<p>

"Aw, you're asleep," Ivan heard the Chinese man murmur as he climbed into bed.

He lay down beside the Russian, pulling the blanket over him and settling in for the night. It wasn't long before Yao's breathing slowed, signalling that he had fallen asleep.

Sleep didn't come so easily to Ivan. Damn Alfred for lying to Yao — now the Chinese man would have reason to be suspicious about other things that didn't quite make sense. Ivan wasn't ready for his web of lies to unravel — it was too soon, they were too happy together, it would hurt too much to lose Yao.

Ivan wrapped his arms around the sleeping figure beside him, pulling the smaller man into a close embrace.

It helped to hold Yao close — even though their relationship could end at any moment, knowing that _right now_ his love was in his arms calmed Ivan. Despite the physical reassurance that Yao was his and he was Yao's, at least for the time being, it was hard for Ivan to take his mind off the fact that their relationship was going to end, and that it was entirely his fault.

He felt bad for lying to Yao, but if he hadn't lied, they wouldn't be together. Would Yao understand that a love like this was worth being lied to? Would he understand that Ivan had done it not to hurt and confuse him, but so that he wouldn't have to be scared and alone with no memory of his old life? Ivan hadn't forced the relationship on him — he had waited for Yao to fall for him, he had stopped whenever Yao had said no and he had told the other man that he was in no way obliged to stay with him.

Yao had chosen Ivan, and the Russian hoped that when he remembered the truth, he would still remember why he had made that choice.

All he could do was hope.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this was so short, but look! Plot advancement! That hasn't happened for a while.<strong>


	24. I Don't Want To Lose You Yet

Yao didn't mention Alfred's lie at all in the week following the phone call. Although Ivan was curious about what the American had done, he didn't dare bring it up, fearing that if their conversation strayed to the topic of lies, Yao would ask him if he had lied about anything. Perhaps Ivan was a good enough liar to say no with a straight face, but he might not be, and he didn't want to chance it.

It was Wednesday, and Ivan was home from work with a cold. Yao had said that he could come home at lunch to check on him, but Ivan had reminded the him about weekly appointment with Dr Beilschmidt.

Ivan kind of wished that he hadn't done that — if Yao were to mention his being lied to during his session with the psychiatrist, what would happen? Would the doctor give him some sort of advice that would help him separate the truth from lies when it came to memory? Admittedly, Ivan didn't know much about amnesia, memory recovery or what went on at Yao's appointments, but he was pretty sure that Dr Beilschmidt's job was to help Yao remember his life before the accident, which was the last thing that Ivan wanted. Still, he couldn't bring himself to do anything to hinder Yao's recovery — that wouldn't be fair. Lying to him wasn't all that fair either, but that was different.

Was it really?

Ivan had lied for Yao's benefit, so that he wouldn't have to be scared and alone (would he have been scared and alone? If Ivan had learned one thing over these past months, it was that Yao could take care of himself) but making sure that Yao never remembered the truth would, in a way, also be for his benefit. If the Chinese man were to discover the truth, would he think that their love, the fruit of Ivan's lies, was worth it? It was based on lies, but it was not a lie itself — Ivan loved Yao with all his heart, and he knew that Yao loved him too.

Would Yao see it that way, or would he feel used and cheated? Would he forgive Ivan or would he never want to see him again? If he lost Yao forever, would _Ivan_ think that lying had been worth it?

The Russian sighed, sinking into the stack of pillows that he was resting against — before he left, Yao had fussed over his ill boyfriend, fluffing up his countless pillows and making him a cup of tea. It tasted much nicer than the tea that Yao usually drank, and it worked wonders soothing Ivan's sore throat.

Perhaps if he told Yao the truth instead of waiting for him to find out, the smaller man would be more likely to forgive Ivan. He had wanted to spend as long as he could with Yao before things fell apart, but Ivan could feel that his lie was close to unravelling.

Ivan knew that he could be wrong about that, and he didn't want to deprive himself of loving and living with Yao any sooner than he had to.

_If Yao confronts you about it, if he says that something doesn't feel right and asks you why, then you will tell him_, Ivan told himself.

That was compromise enough. He would lie to keep Yao until then, but once they passed that point, he would come clean.

Although Ivan knew that it was coming, he hoped that it wasn't too soon.

* * *

><p>"Anything else you want to talk about before our session is over?" asked Gilbert.<p>

Yao glanced at the clock — his appointment was going to end in two minutes. Although he had spent the duration of it trying to think of a way to ask about the effects of being lied to on an amnesiac without outing Alfred, he hadn't come up with anything.

"I don't mind if you stay past the end of your scheduled time, Yao. I don't have any other patients today, so you can take all the time you need," said Gilbert.

Yao shook his head.

"No, I think we covered everything," he said.

"Well, if there's nothing else, I guess you can leave early," said Gilbert.

"Okay. Thanks for all your help, I'll see you next week," said Yao, getting up from his seat.

Gilbert nodded.

"It shouldn't be long before you don't need to see me any more — you've been making excellent progress. I'm sure it's mostly because you have me as your doctor," Gilbert said with a smirk, "but I guess the fact that you're a pretty awesome patient doesn't hurt much either."

"Thanks," Yao said, rolling his eyes at the eccentric doctor.

Despite his eccentricities, Gilbert _had_ been a great psychiatrist. Although at first Yao had been worried that he would never remember anything, the German doctor — was he German? Yao recalled Gilbert mentioning something about being Prussian, but he was also pretty sure that Prussia no longer existed and that the white-haired doctor was from Berlin — had reassured him that what he was going through was normal for an amnesia patient, and he had been even more helpful once Yao had started recovering his memories.

"You're leaving early," Elizaveta said as the Chinese man walked out into the waiting room.

"Only by a couple of minutes," Yao said.

He'd spoken to the Hungarian dentist many times since he'd started seeing Gilbert, and although Yao wouldn't say that they were friends, exactly, he and Elizaveta were quite friendly with each other.

"Have you got time to chat? I'd love to hear how you and your boyfriend are doing," Elizaveta said with a smile.

Though she had never met Yao's boyfriend, the Hungarian often asked about their relationship. Yao, never hesitant to talk about Ivan, didn't mind at all.

"He's home from work with a cold today, actually, but apart from that he's been good," said Yao.

"Oh, there's been a lot of that going around lately. I should be giving a kid a couple of fillings right now, but his dad called just before saying that we'll have to reschedule because he's got a cold. You be careful you don't catch it yourself," said Elizaveta.

"Will do," said Yao, moving toward the door, "see you."

Out on the street, Yao's mind began to wander. It wasn't as if mentioning that Alfred had lied to him was particularly important — although it was a very big thing to the American, it wasn't all that significant to Yao, and he doubted it made any difference to his memory.

Yao was glad, albeit a little surprised, that Ivan hadn't asked what Alfred had lied about. It wasn't Yao's secret to tell, though he knew that Ivan would keep it to himself. Still, it struck him as a little strange that Ivan hadn't said a word about it — then again, maybe he'd been too sleepy when Yao had mentioned it to retain the information.

It wasn't far back to his work, so Yao usually walked to and from his psychiatrist appointments — at least, he did when the weather was good. Although he didn't mind having these appointments and knew he would miss seeing Gilbert when he no longer needed to, Yao was looking forward to remembering everything. He wanted to remember Ivan — although Yao didn't feel as guilty about not remembering him now that he had fallen in love all over again, he still felt a little bad about it.

Yao smiled as he turned the street corner. Ivan was so lovely — just thinking about the fact that an amazing, near-perfect man like that wanted, adored and _loved_ him made the Chinese man feel so happy. Of course Ivan had his faults, but he had never been anything but kind to Yao, who regretted the fact that it had taken him so long to love Ivan back. As much as he had enjoyed getting to know Ivan and getting closer to him, the comfortable, in love stage that their relationship had reached was even better.

Yao had no reason to suspect that it wouldn't stay like that for a long, long time.

* * *

><p>Time passed. Another week came and went, and Ivan and Yao found themselves sitting in a small cafe in the city. It was starting to get a little colder; Yao no longer wore those tiny shorts that Ivan loved so much, but the Russian didn't mind too much since his boyfriend looked just as stunning in jeans and a winter jacket.<p>

"You've been so distracted lately," the Chinese man said.

"Have I?" Ivan asked, sipping at his hot chocolate.

"Yeah, you have. Sometimes I say something to you and you don't even hear it because you're in your own little world or something," Yao explained.

Ivan sighed. He had been worried lately — Yao's finding out that someone else had been lying to him had made the Russian very nervous about his own lies — but he hadn't realised that it had been noticeable.

"I guess I've just been worried about my sister. I've been talking to Natalia via webcam, and… I feel bad not telling her about you, especially since I told Anastasiya, but I'm worried about how she'll react," said Ivan.

Again, he told a lie that wasn't exactly a lie. The real reason for his worry was Yao, but Ivan _was_ a little conflicted about whether or not he should tell his younger sister about his boyfriend.

"You've been away from her for years. Surely she wouldn't think that you'd go for all that time without having some sort of romantic relationship. Besides, is she even obsessed with you any more?" asked Yao.

Ivan shrugged.

"She's been acting pretty normal during our video calls, but Anastasiya says that Natalia is still a little… different," he said.

"How old was she when you left Russia — seventeen, maybe? People change a lot in a couple of years, especially when they're that young. I mean, you know her better than I do, but maybe she's not so bad any more," said Yao.

"I guess," said Ivan.

Despite his worry, Ivan hadn't stopped enjoying Yao's presence. Just sitting across the table from him, making small talk over their food and drink was enough to make the Russian unbelievably happy.

"You know," he said, "maybe some day I could take you to Russia to visit my family."

Yao smiled.

"That would be wonderful. I'd love to meet your sisters and see where you grew up," said the Chinese man, leaning closer to Ivan.

"It's not a very impressive place. I suppose that since Anastasiya and Natalia live there by themselves it's a little more roomy, but it was quite cramped growing up there. My bedroom was so tiny, but it was home. I kinda miss it," said the Russian.

"It must be nice to have one place that you will always consider home. When I lived in China, we moved around a lot. My dad was a businessman, and as his company started doing better and better, we moved to bigger, nicer apartments," said Yao.

"I wish my family could have moved to a bigger, nicer house," Ivan said.

Yao nodded thoughtfully.

"I guess we all want what we can't have," he mused.

"I want you most of all," said Ivan.

As Yao laughed, it dawned on Ivan that perhaps what the Chinese man had said about wanting what you cannot have was true. He had Yao now, of course, but could he keep him? Perhaps, in the end, Ivan would not be able to have the one thing he wanted most of all. Even if Alfred's lie hadn't made Yao worry that others, including Ivan, had lied to him, if he remembered something about Alfred, his workmate who he couldn't have known for more than a year, then his recent memories were finally returning — memories that could bring about the end of their relationship.

"Are you okay? You're doing the distracted thing again," said Yao, gently placing his hand on Ivan's, which was resting on the table.

"Sorry," Ivan said, not providing any explanation for his behaviour.

"You don't have to apologise," said Yao.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, taking time to enjoy their neglected food and drink.

"Hey, _Ivan_," said Yao.

Looking up, Ivan noticed the playful grin on his lover's face.

"I don't have any plans for this afternoon, and I doubt you do either. I'm kind of in the mood for… something a little more satisfying than coffee and a bread roll," said the Chinese man, lowering his voice a little.

Ivan grinned. Although he had immensely enjoyed the blushing, inexperienced Yao who he had first bedded, he loved how his boyfriend had become so confident so quickly. They were equal in all other aspects of their relationship, and Ivan felt that it was right for them to fuck as equals as well.

Ivan had worried that Yao's insistence on waiting meant that he had other issues with sex, but those worries were quickly laid to rest.

"I take it you're not talking about food," said Ivan.

Yao shook his head, that tantalizing smile never leaving his face.

"Good," Ivan said before downing the last of his drink, "you ready to go?"

Yao nodded.

"Are you?" he asked, looking pointedly at the unfinished sandwich on Ivan's plate.

"Why would I need to eat that when, as you said, we're going to have something far more filling at home?" asked the Russian, eliciting a laugh from Yao.

The Chinese man leaned across the table and gave Ivan a peck on the cheek before getting up from the table.

"I'll go pay for lunch, then we can leave," he said.

Ivan sighed as he watched Yao walk up to the counter of the cafe. Sometimes he felt so afraid of losing the gorgeous darkhaired man that all he wanted to do was hold him close and pretend that nothing was going to make him let go.

* * *

><p>"Your hair is perfect," Ivan murmured, running his hands through Yao's long, dark locks.<p>

Yao gazed up at the bigger man, head resting on the other's chest.

"Yours isn't too shabby either," he said, reaching his arms out and burying his fingers in Ivan's silver-blonde hair.

As much as Yao enjoyed actually having sex with Ivan — and he _really_ enjoyed having sex with Ivan — there was something about laying in each other's arms afterwards, spent and satisfied and so in love, that Yao liked almost as much as he liked making love.

"Other people… they don't love like us, do they?" asked Yao.

"What?" asked Ivan, moving his hand so it was resting on Yao's lower back.

"We're in love — really, properly in love, not just like kids who think they love each other because they don't actually know what they're talking about. What we have is the thing that other people dream of — a love that is so real and could so easily last for the rest of our lives," said Yao.

Ivan nodded.

"I'd love to spend the rest of my life with you, Yao," he said.

"Maybe everyone thinks that their love story is the greatest one out there and that everyone else's pales in comparison, but… other people try time and time again to find the person that they're going to spend forever with, and so many times they just fail. But we succeeded, we found each other, and we're going to be together for a long, long time," Yao said, feeling Ivan's chest rise and fall beneath his own head and listening the bigger man's heart beating.

Although Yao knew that the heart was a muscle that pumped blood through Ivan's body, that the thing that made Ivan _Ivan_ and made him love Yao was his mind, it was almost comforting to hear that heartbeat. _It beats for you_, Ivan had said once, on a day like today when they had had time to lie together like this. Yao had been listening to Ivan's heartbeat then as well.

_So does mine_, Yao had said.

There was more to his life than his relationship with Ivan, but it was hard not to let it take over.

Yao's eyes fluttered closed, the rhythmic pounding of his lover's heart and the rise and fall of his chest very nearly lulling him to sleep — at least until a shrill sound rang out, disturbing the peaceful atmosphere in the bedroom.

"That's my phone," Ivan said, just as Yao spotted it on the desk across the room, "would you be able to answer it for me?"

Yao nodded and reluctantly heaved himself off of Ivan. Picking up Ivan's phone, he answered it without looking to see who was calling and was greeted by hysterical babbling in Russian.

"Uh… this is… this is Yao," the Chinese man said lamely, moving across the room and preparing to hand the phone to the bigger man, "I'll just give you to Ivan."

He quickly glanced at the screen, noting that the caller was Ivan's sister before giving it to the Russian.

"It's Anastasiya," he said, settling back into bed.

Yao watched Ivan speak, only understanding a few words here and there — Natalia was one that popped up a lot in this conversation. Something that Anastasiya said must have shocked Ivan, because Yao saw the colour drain from his already pale face. He spoke faster, his voice frantic. Yao found himself staring at Ivan, wondering what on earth his sister had told him that had made him look so worried.

Finally, Ivan put the phone down and turned to Yao.

"Natalia is…" Ivan began, faltering and then taking a moment to compose himself, "she's in the hospital."

"What happened?" Yao asked.

Though he was relieved that Ivan's sister was alive — before Ivan had finished his sentence, his first thought was that she had died — whatever had happened to her was obviously very serious if it had reduced Ivan to this state.

"Natalia took a lot of sleeping pills. Anastasiya called me as soon as she could, and she said that the doctors told her that they got to her in time and that she will most likely be… alive, at least, Anastasiya didn't say anything else. The main thing is that she isn't conscious and so there's no way of knowing if it was an accident or…"

Ivan trailed off, but Yao knew what he was thinking. _A suicide attempt._

"Do you think she would have—"

"Natalia is a very persistent girl, very determined. She doesn't give up. She is not the sort to give up on life, that much I know," said Ivan.

Did Ivan believe what he was saying, or was he trying to convince himself that those words were true? Yao couldn't tell just by looking at him; he knew Ivan so well, but these sorts of situations made people act unlike themselves.

"I need to see her," said Ivan, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and grabbing at his clothes, which lay discarded on the floor.

"In Russia? Can you book a flight at such short notice?" asked Yao.

"If it's at all possible, I have the money to do it. I need to be there for Natalia — for Anastasiya too. I've been away from home too long," said Ivan.

Yao nodded.

"I'll grab the phone book, see if I can find the travel agent's number," he said.

He would miss Ivan, but as the Russian had said, he needed to be there for his sisters. Even if Ivan was right and Natalia's situation was an accident, which it may well be, it was time he paid them a visit — he'd left Russia two years ago, and he hadn't gone back once in that time. Yao, who hadn't gone for more than a week without seeing his mother since the accident and made a point of keeping in touch with his siblings and stepfather, couldn't imagine being away from his family for that long.

"Thank you," said Ivan, pulling Yao close and placing a kiss on his lips.

There was no passion to the kiss — Ivan was not in the right frame of mind for that — it was simply a thank you kiss, and not just for Yao's offer of grabbing the phone book. It was a thank you for the fact that Yao was going to let him go, that he knew that Ivan was needed somewhere else.

Their lips broke apart, and Yao gave Ivan a weak smile.

"It's going to be okay," he said, "whatever happens, remember that I love you. Your sisters, they love you too. It will help, even if only a little."

At that moment, the only thing in the world that Yao wanted was for his words to make Ivan feel better — _even if only a little._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: All will be revealed in the fullness of time.<strong>


	25. Empty Sky

**At long last, this story has finally reached 100,000 words. A big thank you to everyone who has read this far! I'm actually quite proud of myself for sticking with it for this long — it's officially the longest story that I've ever written.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

><p>Miraculously, Ivan was able to book a flight that left at eight o'clock that night. Yao drove him to the airport and they said their goodbyes — when it came time for their last hug, Ivan held Yao a little too tightly for a little too long. The Chinese man was regaining his memories faster than ever before, and Ivan didn't know if they would still be on good terms in eleven days when Ivan's return flight arrived. Even though he didn't want to give up what could be his last days with Yao, he couldn't just stay put while his family needed him.<p>

"I'll miss you," Yao said as he finally broke Ivan's embrace.

"I'll miss you too," said Ivan.

They stood together for another moment before Yao spoke again.

"Go on, you'll miss your flight," he said, "we'll talk on the phone — I'll see if I can get my computer a webcam so we can video chat. It'll be as if the thousands of miles between us don't even matter."

Ivan nodded, grabbing his carry-on luggage and turning to leave.

"Goodbye, Yao," said the bigger man, turning his head back to look at his lover as he began to walk away.

"Goodbye, Ivan," said Yao.

And then he was gone.

Without Yao beside him to keep him calm, Ivan found himself becoming increasingly impatient. He wanted to board the plane right that instant and have it take off the second he was in his seat — he didn't to have to wait a minute longer than necessary to see his sisters. However, from his seat in the waiting area, he could see all of the other passengers who _weren't_ in such a hurry — meandering aimlessly through the duty free shops; picking things up, lazily considering a purchase and then shrugging and putting the item back on the shelf. It wasn't as if their dawdling did anything to delay the plane's departure, but it irritated Ivan to no end watching them all wasting their time.

He checked his phone again — no messages or missed calls from Anastasiya, but she would probably be busy. It had been early afternoon when she had first called, which meant that it had been night time in Russia. By now she would be asleep — Ivan hoped that she was not too worried to sleep, that nothing more had happened to Natalia to cause any worry.

Ivan sighed and pocketed his phone, checking his other pockets to make sure that he was carrying the essentials — his passport, the ticket for the plane he was about to board and the ticket for his second flight, which would take him from Paris to Moscow. He hadn't been able to book a direct flight, but luckily the stopover was only two hours. Ivan remembered that when he had first flown to the United States, he had spent eighteen hours in Amsterdam waiting for his second flight.

How hopeful he had been back then! Leaving his hometown had been Ivan's chance for a fresh start, to leave behind everyone who thought that he was strange or scary or disturbed and meet new people. He had dreamed of making new friends and, perhaps, finding that special someone — and eventually, he did; it only took two entire years.

Ivan sat there by himself, lost in his thoughts, until he felt a vibration from within his coat. Expecting news from Anastasiya, Ivan grabbed his phone from his pocket as quickly as he could. Looking at the screen, he noticed that the message he had received was not from his sister, but it was hardly a disappointment — it was from Yao.

_Home. Guessing your flight won't have left yet so might as well say hi. Hi! :)_

Ivan grinned. Though he missed getting to see Yao's gorgeous face, talking to him like this was nice too — and a good distraction from his own thoughts and worries.

_Yep, waiting in airport. Love you so much&miss you already!_

Ivan replied.

No more than a minute passed before he received a reply from Yao.

_Love you too._

Messaging Yao was a good way to make the time pass — before Ivan knew it, it was time to board the plane. Though he could certainly afford better, the only seat available on the flight was in economy class, where Ivan had at least been lucky to get a seat by the window. He stowed his bag in the overhead compartment, sat down and pulled his phone out of his coat to see if Yao had replied — they had been discussing the pros and cons of the Chinese man sending Ivan dirty pictures.

_And your logic comes from... where exactly...? Plus, why should it be me? You're the one who thinks it's a great idea..._

Ivan sighed. He'd been sure he'd had Yao with the last text, but he'd forgotten how stubborn the smaller man could be.

_I'm on a plane, silly. I can't take those sorts of pictures here._

Moments later, a reply from Yao arrived.

_Planes have bathrooms… ;) Youu better not have taken off though because having your phone on while it's flying is dangerous for some reason._

Ivan laughed.

_God forbid that the plane crashes and everyone dies because I sent you a picture of my dick_

"Sir," came a voice from nearby, and Ivan looked up to find that one of the flight attendants was standing in the aisle, looking pointedly at him, "you'll have to turn your phone off now and leave it off for the rest of the flight."

Ivan nodded.

"Of course. Just give me a minute to say goodbye to the person I'm talking to," he said.

He glanced at his phone — no reply from Yao yet — and sent one last text.

_On a completely unrelated note, I've got to go now. Love love love love you, Yao-Yao! I'll text you when I get to Paris._

As much as he wanted to see Yao's reply, Ivan resisted the temptation and turned his phone off.

Without Yao to distract him, this was going to be a long flight.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until Ivan's eyes fluttered open that he realised that he had fallen asleep. After dinner had been served and eaten, the Russian had started watching a movie to take his mind off of things, but it hadn't been interesting enough to keep him awake.<p>

Ivan glanced to his right and found that the passengers sitting beside him were also asleep — he was a little jealous that they had neck pillows; his own neck was stiff and sore from sleeping in an uncomfortable position, and the headphones he was wearing had left marks on the side of his face.

Ivan took his headphones off and stretched uncomfortably in the little space that he had left — there hadn't been much room for a tall, stocky man like himself to begin with, and the passenger in front of him leaning their seat back as far as it could go didn't help at all.

He opened the window shutter, which he didn't recall closing, and looked outside. All that Ivan could see was the plane's wing and masses of clouds — since he was pretty sure that French clouds didn't look much different from American clouds or floating-above-the-Atlantic-ocean clouds, there was no way to tell where he was. He could have checked the television screen on the back of the seat in front of him if it weren't for the fact that it was at an impossible-to-see angle.

Though he knew that it would be almost impossible, Ivan decided to try and go back to sleep. He grabbed the blanket from the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him, pulled it over his body and closed his eyes. It was the first time in months that Ivan had to try to get to sleep without Yao beside him. At first it had been strange having another body beside his own in bed every night, but it didn't take long for the Russian to grow accustomed to Yao's presence; his body heat kept Ivan warm at night, and the little noises that he made in his sleep were beyond cute.

Ivan wasn't going to have that at all while in Russia, but he was sort of looking forward to sleeping in his old bed in his old bedroom. It was home, and even if it wasn't as nice as sleeping in Yao's warm embrace, it was certainly better than the cramped seat he was in right now.

* * *

><p>Paris was beautiful, or so Ivan had heard. The interior of the airport, which was the only part of the city that the Russian was going to see, was not all that fantastic. Aside from the fact that most of the signs were in French, there wasn't any difference that Ivan could see between the Parisian airport and any of the others that he had ever been in. The sights and sounds of Paris may have been spectacular, but the only view that Ivan got was of the airport's waiting area.<p>

The vending machine a few paces away from his seat looked very tempting, but Ivan didn't have any euros, only American dollars and rubles, as well as an international cash card which was packed away into his luggage and which he would not be reunited with until he arrived in Moscow.

Ivan reached into his coat pocket for his phone, which he would be able to turn back on now that he was no longer flying, but found that the pocket that it was usually kept in was empty. After rifling through the rest of his pockets without finding it, Ivan was left with a sinking suspicion that he had left it on the plane — he couldn't quite remember putting it back in his pocket after turning it off.

What had he done with it? Placed it on the tray? Perhaps it had fallen to the floor and ended up under the seat, or maybe he had moved it when his dinner had arrived and it had gotten lost amongst the mealtime paraphernalia. Could one of the stewardesses have taken the food tray away with his phone on it? Surely someone would have noticed it — then again, maybe someone _had _noticed it. Maybe he had left it out in plain sight and the passenger sitting next to him had snatched it while he was asleep. He had been sitting next to an elderly woman, though, and while he was sure that even she would be able to tell from a glance that it was a rather expensive phone, he somehow doubted that someone who looked to be about eighty would have much use for it. Remembering how far back the person in front of him and leaned their seat, which Ivan's tray was attached to, his theory of it falling and getting lost on the ground looked quite likely.

A quick check revealed that he still had his passport and plane ticket, which were more important than the phone, but Ivan was still a little annoyed about losing it. He had promised Yao that he would text him, and he had probably received news from Anastasiya too.

He hoped that neither Yao nor his sisters were worried about him — surely they would realise that his phone could be lost or out of battery or that he might not be able to get service in Paris.

Nobody was sitting in any of the seats near him, so Ivan lay down — not to sleep, he didn't want to chance oversleeping and missing his flight, just to rest. He wasn't going to get the chance to lie down on the plane or during the drive from Moscow to the town where his sisters lived — that was assuming that he would actually be able to get a bus or a rental car to their hometown.

Ivan wanted to be there now. He wanted to run, to move, to feel as if he was actually getting closer to his destination. Just sitting and waiting was becoming excruciating, and he had hours of it left. Ivan was usually such a patient man, but right now patience was a virtue that he did not possess.

* * *

><p>The wait, the flight, getting through customs and the bus ride from Moscow all seemed to take an eternity. Every step seemed like it wasn't enough, he wasn't going fast enough, and every minute of sitting still and waiting was torturous.<p>

It felt like it had been days since Ivan had said goodbye to Yao, though it hadn't even been twenty four hours. The hours of sitting around doing nothing and talking to nobody had dragged by and made the travel experience seem so much longer than it had really been.

Finally, Ivan arrived in the small town that he had grown up in. There were so many memories of this place, both good and bad, and being back dredged them all up. As well as the familiarity, there were things that had changed — some of the stores and cafes that Ivan remembered being on the main street were gone, replaced by something entirely different. The health food shop was now a pharmacy, and a bookstore had opened in what had previously been a vacant lot. Although it made sense that the town had not paused and waited for Ivan's return, there was something a little strange about the way his former home had kept growing and changing while he was gone, just as it had done when he had lived there. Ivan was sure that Anastasiya and Natalia were the only people here who had missed him, so it was quite likely that the lack of his presence hadn't affected the town at all.

Just outside of town, two or three miles down an unsealed road, was the house where Ivan had grown up. This was the place that he loved — while the township itself held many unpleasant memories, this house was where the happiest moments of his young life had taken place. True, there were many less-than-pleasant things that had happened in this house, but he wasn't going to let those things ruin the place that he had once called home.

Nobody answered the door when Ivan knocked, but the spare key was hidden under the doormat just as it had always been. Ivan let himself in and, jet-lagged and exhausted, made his way to his old bedroom. The room had hardly changed since he had left it — none of the furniture had been moved, the pillow and the blankets on the bed were the ones that slept with on the night before he left, and there was still a 2010 calendar on the wall. As much as Ivan wanted to visit Natalia and see how she was doing, he knew he needed to have a good sleep first. He needed to be strong for his sisters, and right now, his head was a mess and he was too tired do anything to help anyone.

Even though it was very cold, Ivan had been wearing his current clothes for far too long and they were beginning to feel kind of gross. He stripped down to his boxers and slipped beneath the sheets — sheets he had slept between many times so long ago — and it took no time at all for him to fall asleep.

When he woke up, he would see his sisters and find out what Natalia's situation was. Now was the time for rest.

* * *

><p><strong>I used to think that flying was fun, but then I took eight flights within the space of about two weeks and now I just find the whole process to be kinda tiresome. It's even worse when you really want to reach your destination and don't care about just relaxing and enjoying the flight.<strong>

**I have exams next week, so don't expect the next update to be on time.**


	26. Porcelain

Yao sat before Ivan, back propped up against a stack of pillows, body covered by a flimsy hospital gown and a thin blanket. His slender frame looked thin to the point of being sickly, and his skin had lost its healthy glow. His hair was a mess and his lips were cracked and dry, parted slightly as he breathed in and out through his mouth. He looked like hell, but nothing about his shocking looks was as bad as his eyes — Ivan remembered those golden brown eyes being so full of life, but now they were dull and glassy. Even when Ivan moved into Yao's line of vision, those eyes did not see him.

"He hit his head pretty hard in the car accident," murmured the nurse who was standing next to him.

Ivan turned to her, noticing her presence for the first time. He recalled that her name was Bethany, and that she had been kind to him the first time that they had met.

"He's lost his memory, but he will be okay, won't he?" asked Ivan, glancing at the sickly figure on the bed and then back at Bethany for an answer.

"He's suffered extensive brain damage. His memory isn't the only thing he's lost, and it's really the least of his problems right now," she said.

Before Ivan could ask her anything else, Bethany glanced to her right and, noticing that the blonde doctor was standing in the doorway, and looking very impatient, turned to leave the room.

Ivan glanced back at Yao, if that was even what was sitting on the bed. It looked like Yao — some sick, twisted version of him — but without everything that made him who he was, the beautiful dark-haired man wasn't Yao, not really.

But was the real Yao somewhere inside?

Ivan leaned forward and shook the smaller man's shoulders.

"Yao," he murmured, "wake up, Yao."

Those eyes — Ivan couldn't bring himself to call them _Yao's_ eyes — turned to him, looking into his but not seeing. It was worse than the other man not even registering that he was there; now Ivan's lover was looking right at him and his eyes were still as glazed and dead looking as before.

"Snap out of it, Yao," Ivan said harshly, shaking the smaller man's delicate frame a little harder.

Yao didn't respond. It was as if he didn't even notice that his body was being rocked back and forth, as if he didn't hear Ivan's pleas or see the desperation in those violet eyes that were mere inches from his own.

"Say something!" Ivan begged, not letting go of Yao's shoulders. "Say anything! Just show me that you're in there!"

Ivan's pleading grew more frantic, his voice louder. He knew he shouldn't be yelling at Yao or shaking his fragile body like that, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Yao!" he half-screamed, half-sobbed.

Ivan felt arms snake around his body, a soothing voice hushing his cries as he was wrapped in a warm embrace.

"It's okay, Vanya, you just had a bad dream."

The whisper tickled his ear, and it took him a moment to realise that those words had been said in Russian and that the speaker had called him by his childhood nickname.

Ivan opened his eyes and found himself staring into Anastasiya's. It had been so long since he had seen those blue eyes of hers up close.

"You're awake now, everything is alright," she said, smoothing his hair and giving him a reassuring smile.

"I'm so sorry," Ivan said, sitting up in bed and wiping his eyes.

Real tears had formed in his eyes — and no wonder, that dream had felt so real. It could have so easily been real, too; Yao was lucky that he hadn't been brain damaged like that in the accident. God, how Ivan wished that he hadn't lost his phone so that he could text his boyfriend just to make sure that he was okay.

"You don't have to be sorry," said Anastasiya, "you're stressed. So am I! Natalia is okay, but she's refusing to tell me or any of the doctors or nurses what happened. All she's said is that she wasn't trying to kill herself."

Ivan nodded.

"Do you believe her?" he asked.

Anastasiya sighed.

"I want to believe her. She doesn't seem like the type to… to do something like that," she said.

Anastasiya leaned forward to hug her brother again.

"It's been too long since I've seen you. I just wish that you were back for a more pleasant reason," she said.

"So do I," said Ivan.

"Do you want to go and see Natalia soon, or would you rather wait a little while?" asked Anastasiya.

As much as Ivan hated the idea of going to the hospital after the dream he had just had, he needed to see Natalia.

"I'll go and see her now," he said.

"Okay. I'll leave you to get ready," said Anastasiya.

Alone again, the dream that Ivan had just woken from came back to haunt him. The image of Yao lying empty and broken in a hospital bed wouldn't leave his head, and neither would the memory of what he himself had done in the dream. That he had shaken Yao so violently, even though it hadn't actually happened, sickened Ivan. Though small, the Chinese man was strong, but in the dream he had looked as fragile as a china doll — and just as still and lifeless.

Ivan pushed those thoughts out of his mind. It had been a dream, nothing more; he hadn't actually shook Yao, who wasn't actually brain damaged. Still, the fact that his lover could have easily ended up like that after the car crash sent a chill down Ivan's spine.

He wished that he hadn't lost his phone so that he could text Yao, or even call so that he could hear his voice. It was partly because Ivan wanted to reassure himself that his boyfriend was okay and partly because he just missed Yao.

Ivan wrinkled his nose at the pile of clothing on the floor next to the bed — those garments would need a good wash before he was to wear them again. Although Ivan had never been a slob, he had definitely upped his game in the grooming department since he had been with Yao. The smaller man was always so fresh and clean and nice-smelling — Ivan had never paid much attention to how other people smelled, but he had grown to love the fruity scent of Yao's shampoo.

The Russian grabbed his suitcase, pulled it up onto the bed beside him and opened it, rummaging around inside for some clean clothes. Underneath a t-shirt, he found something that he hadn't packed himself — a panda plushie with a post-it note stuck to its body. Written on the neon pink piece of paper was Yao's familiar handwriting.

_If you need something to remind you of me, this is Ming. He might not keep you warm at night, but that doesn't mean it's not comforting to hold him._

Ivan grinned. He remembered that this little panda used to live on their bed, but had been moved since he and Yao had been getting closer. Ivan imagined Yao holding the other stuffed panda against his chest as he slept, long hair fanning out behind him on the pillow. Ivan had known other people to look quite frightful first thing in the morning, but Yao was always gorgeous.

Ivan placed the little panda on his pillow. Sure, it wouldn't be the same as sleeping next to Yao, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

><p>The hospital hadn't changed much since the last time Ivan had been there. It didn't look modern or professional like the hospital he had woken up in after the car crash or the ones he had seen on television, and the doctors and nurses didn't look half as busy. In a town of just over two thousand people, there weren't many serious injuries or illnesses to tend to — most of the patients that Ivan passed on his way to Natalia's room were old people who didn't look as if they had much wrong with them.<p>

Ivan stopped outside the door. Anastasiya, who had told him where to find Natalia, hadn't come into the hospital with him. She'd told Ivan that Natalia would probably prefer to speak to him alone.

Slowly, half hoping that he had gotten the wrong door so that he would have a little longer to pull himself together before seeing Natalia, Ivan opened the door.

There she was, sitting up in bed, earphones in and a frown on her face as she stared at the iPod in her hands.

"This god damn thing isn't—"

Before she could finish what she was saying, Natalia looked up. The second she noticed that her brother was standing in the doorway, she stopped dead in the middle of her sentence.

"It's me," Ivan said lamely.

"I can see that," said Natalia.

Ivan wasn't quite sure, but he thought he could see the ghost of a smile on her face.

"Come here," she said.

Ivan did as he was told, moving toward his sister and sitting down in the worn armchair next to the bed. He was not afraid to admit, if only to himself, that his younger sister intimidated him a little. That a grown man found a pale, pretty, petite nineteen-year-old girl intimidating seemed laughable, but Natalia was no ordinary girl. Though she was the picture of feminine beauty, with her long blonde hair, lovely face and penchant for wearing pretty dresses and bows, beneath her delicate-looking exterior, Natalia was anything but sweet.

"I missed you. If I'd known taking a few pills too many was all it would take to get you here, I would have done it a lot sooner," she said, giving Ivan a proper smile this time.

He was the only person she smiled for. Many people mistook Natalia's cold, silent demeanor for that of a demure, shy girl, but she simply didn't want anything to do with most people.

"Don't make a joke of this. I came because I was worried about you — you could have died!" said Ivan.

"Why can't I make a joke? It's funny! You know what else is funny? The only reason I haven't gone back home yet is because the staff want to watch over me so I don't kill myself," said Natalia, grinning as if she had just told a brilliant joke.

"How is that funny?" asked Ivan, staring at his sister in confusion.

"The idea that I would want to die is ludicrous!" Natalia said, pausing for a moment. "You didn't think that's what the pill overdose was, did you? A suicide attempt? Oh, please. If you rejecting me was worth killing myself over, I would be long dead."

"So why did you do it?" asked Ivan, sick of Natalia's riddles.

He didn't mention what she had said about him rejecting her — it wasn't Ivan's fault that while he loved her as a sister, he couldn't see them being anything more than siblings. That was to be expected — a brother _should_ feel uneasy when presented with the idea of a romantic relationship with his little sister.

"Honestly? I was pissed off and I wasn't thinking about the consequences of my actions. When you feel low, you don't think about how things aren't as bad as they seem or that you've got the future to look forward to, you just want a way out," said Natalia, furrowing her brows at Ivan, "don't you look at me like that. I don't mean suicide, I mean alcohol. I found dad's vodka stash, and I figured that since he's been dead ten years, it's not like anyone would mind me drinking a little just to take my mind off things — only I misjudged how much was 'a little', got more than a little tipsy and ended up getting a bit careless with my sleeping pills."

Ivan frowned at that. He didn't like the idea of his sister trying to drink the pain away — doing that had killed their father, and, as it turned out, it had damn near killed Natalia as well.

"Why did you think drinking would help?" Ivan asked, fully aware that he sounded like a hypocrite — he had overindulged in the stuff many times before, but this was different.

"Because I finally figured out the lock code on Anastasiya's phone and I was going through her messages because I _knew _she'd been talking to you without telling me, and I found out something that she'd neglected to tell me," said Natalia, looking surprisingly calm considering the fact that whatever she had found out — and Ivan was pretty sure he knew what it was — had been terrible enough to cause this whole mess.

Ivan sighed.

"Yao?" he asked.

He was genuinely surprised when his sister shook her head.

"I've known about your gay boyfriend for a while now, and I don't care. I mean, I think it's stupid that you're wasting your time with someone who can't love you the way I do, but I'm sure you'll find that out for yourself eventually. No, what I found out was that you left Russia to get away from me — or so Anastasiya thinks," said Natalia.

"Natalia, I..."

Ivan trailed off, unsure of what to say. She wasn't the only reason he left — there had been nothing keeping him in Russia, but Natalia's obsession had made him eager to go somewhere far, far away.

"So it is true," she said, those violet eyes — just like his — incessantly _staring_ at him.

Ivan couldn't help but avert his own eyes, burying his head in his hands. Natalia was never supposed to know that. As much as he hated the fact that she was in love with him, obsessed with him, that she wouldn't accept that they were brother and sister and that he could only feel brotherly love for her, nothing more, Ivan did not hate Natalia. He did not want to hurt her either; despite all her faults, she was his sister, part of what little family he had left.

"Natalia, you are my sister, and I love you very much. Never doubt that," Ivan began, looking back up at his sister, "but... I can't love you as anything more than a sister. You wouldn't accept that, and that was one of the many reasons that I left. Not because of who you are, but because of the things you said and did."

Natalia sighed and threw her head back against the pillow.

"So you admit that you love me?" she asked, turning to look at Ivan.

The Russian man nodded.

"I suppose that's good enough for me," Natalia said, sounding a little reluctant but nevertheless pleased.

Ivan was a little surprised that she had forgiven him so easily — she loved him, but she certainly didn't think that he could do no wrong. She had been angry with him before. Even the way she showed her love was a little aggressive. Perhaps she had changed — just as Yao had said, two years was a long time. Perhaps Ivan could put his reservations about Natalia behind him and try to have a normal sibling relationship with her.

There was enough time before he had to leave Russia again for Ivan to try.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**So this chapter was set in Russia, and all of the dialogue between characters would be in Russian. I italicised non-English dialogue in previous chapters, but the fact there's so much of it in this one would probably make it a little annoying stylistically, so I just left it as is. Same goes for any future chapters like this one.**

**I hope my portrayal of Natalia is to your liking — I've seen other authors write her as a complete psychopath, but I don't see her that way at all.**


	27. Hometown Blues

Ivan couldn't stop thinking about Yao. It was becoming a problem — he was supposed to be spending time with his sisters, but he couldn't keep his mind from wandering. Ivan had sent Yao an email explaining that he had lost his phone, but he hadn't received a reply yet. He wondered if he would have decided to come for so long if he'd known he would not be able to contact his boyfriend.

"Vanya, can you go and get Natalia? Tell her that breakfast is ready," said Anastasiya, rousing Ivan from his thoughts.

"Sure," he said, getting up from his place at the kitchen table.

The house was small enough that it only took a few steps to get to his sister's room. The door wasn't shut properly, and Ivan pushed it open without bothering to knock.

"Breakfast is ready," he said, poking his head into the room.

"Great," said Natalia, putting the book that she had been reading down on her bedside table, "if it's porridge again, I will puke."

The day after Ivan had visited her, the hospital staff had decided to release Natalia. In the days that followed, she and Ivan had spent quite a bit of time together, and not once had Natalia mentioned the fact that she was in love with him. Ivan didn't doubt that she was only doing it to avoid being rejected, but even that was an improvement.

"I think it is, but Anastasiya makes damn good porridge," said Ivan.

"Shit is still shit even if it's expertly prepared shit," said Natalia.

Ivan laughed, and before he knew it, he had moved into the room and was sitting on the bed beside his sister.

Natalia's room was surprisingly normal — the walls were painted purple and covered with posters of rock bands and pop stars, and against one wall was a bookcase with a stereo perched atop of it. Pinned to the door of Natalia's wardrobe was a collage of pictures, mostly of her and Ivan. Though Ivan knew why she had made it, he had to admit that it was a nice collage — they looked so happy in all of the photos. Ivan recognised one of the photos, as it used to hang in a frame on the wall of his parents' bedroom. It was of Ivan as a small child, holding his baby sister in his arms. It was one of his mother's favourite pictures — he remembered her telling him how nervous she had been about letting him hold the baby, but he had been so careful and gentle with little Natalia. There had been another photo on the wall of Anastasiya holding the baby, but evidently Natalia hadn't liked that one enough to add it to her collage.

"That took me ages to make. There was a collage making tutorial in some magazine, and Anastasiya suggested I give it a go, something about it being good for me to have a constructive hobby or something. I thought it was a pretty dumb idea at first, but I really like how it turned out," said Natalia.

"It's really good," Ivan said.

"Thanks," said Natalia, leaning so that her head was resting on her brother's shoulder.

"What's this about?" asked Ivan, picking up the book beside the bed.

"A girl and a boy who are in love but can't be together," said Natalia, "it sounds kinda stupid but it's actually pretty good."

"Why can't they be together?" asked Ivan.

"Because they're siblings and he's gay," Natalia said dryly.

Noticing the look on Ivan's face, she smirked and shook her head.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. He died but was brought back to life as a never-aging immortal, and he wants to turn her into one too so they can spend eternity together, but she doesn't know if she wants to give up on her human life," said Natalia.

"What do you think she'll do?" asked Ivan.

"I don't know. The book is trying to make them seem like the perfect couple, but they haven't known each other for very long and I don't think that they really love each other," Natalia said with a sigh.

Ivan tried not to dwell on the fact that Natalia's criticism sounded a lot like a jab at him and Yao — they had only known each other for two months, and although Natalia had been told Ivan's lie that they had been together for a year before the accident, it wasn't all that long compared to the time that she had known him.

"You coming for breakfast?" Ivan asked, not quite in the mood for any more conversation.

"I guess," Natalia replied.

* * *

><p>"Guess who is coming to visit?" asked Anastasiya as soon as she got through the front door.<p>

Ivan shrugged. He couldn't think of anyone in town who would want to see him or Natalia, and he didn't know any of Anastasiya's friends.

"Toris Laurinaitis. He heard that Natalia was unwell, and when I saw him in town today, he asked after her and I told him that she'd love to have a visitor," explained Anastasiya.

"I don't want visitors," said Natalia, striding out of her room and into the kitchen where Ivan and Anastasiya were talking, "so who the hell did you invite over?"

"Toris. Remember, he was Ivan's friend in high school, and he was always very fond of you," said Anastasiya.

Natalia groaned.

"He said he had a crush on me and so I _broke his hand_. If he still wants anything to do with me, then he's an idiot," she scoffed.

Anastasiya frowned.

"Well, at least he'll be pleasantly surprised that his old friend Ivan is here," she said.

Natalia raised one eyebrow, glancing sceptically her brother.

"I don't know…" she said.

"I was kind of a jerk to Toris when I was his friend," Ivan admitted.

He hadn't realised it at the time, but the way that he had treated his friends when he was a teenager was more than a little cruel. Spending time with Yao and his friends had shown Ivan a different sort of friendship — while Yao's friends often bickered and didn't always get along, deep down they generally liked one another and saw each other as equals. Ivan's childhood friends certainly hadn't been treated as equals.

"Do you know when Toris is coming over? I might go out for a while when he does, I doubt he wants to see me," said Ivan.

"Some time this afternoon, I don't really know," said Anastasiya as she set about putting the things she'd bought in town in the kitchen cupboards.

"I'll come with you," Natalia offered.

"No, you're staying here," said Anastasiya.

Ivan could tell from the look on Anastasiya's face that she was not going to back down on this. Instead of sticking around to listen to his sisters bicker, he decided to slip outside while they weren't paying attention. It was strange; Ivan was so big and could be so domineering, but with these two women, he was quite the opposite.

* * *

><p>It was early autumn and the air was cool, the ground already littered with dead leaves. It had been getting a little cooler back home as well — Ivan now thought of the house he shared with Yao as home, not the country where he was born — but here it was downright cold.<p>

Ivan's walk took him down the road that his childhood home was on; not toward the town, but further away from it. The sky above was grey — a perfect fit for the dull, lifeless scenery that it hung over. It wasn't just the fields on the outskirts of town that were dull, the whole town was too. At least, that was how it had been when Ivan had lived there; though he hadn't spent much time in town since he'd been back, he couldn't imagine that it had changed much in two years when it hadn't in the previous twenty one.

As he trudged along the gravel road, Ivan recalled the last time he had been on a long walk, when he and Yao had walked from the abandoned house to Piercetown. Ivan wished that it was that warm now. No, what he really wished was that Yao was by his side. On some level he knew that he was completely obsessed with the Chinese man, that even when people were madly in love with each other, they didn't think about their love as much as he did, but it didn't strike him as a bad thing — it just meant that he loved Yao a lot.

Eventually Ivan reached the cemetery. He hadn't really been meaning to come here, but it was the only place to go on this road, and he might as well pay his respects to his parents while he was here.

The gate swung open with a creak, pushing the leaves on the ground out of the way. It was obvious that it had been quite some time since this place had had a visitor. Ivan's eyes scanned the rows of decrepit gravestones, finally settling on the one that he had come to visit. Leaves crunching underfoot, he made his way over to his parents' grave.

It still seemed wrong to see their names on a grave, and worse still that the grave looked so run-down — it had been ten years, but the wind and the rain had taken their toll on the humble tombstone.

_Here lies_

_Anya Braginskaya_

_March 31st, 1959 – March 1st, 2002_

_and her husband_

_Vladislav Braginsky_

_September 30th, 1947 – May 28th, 2002_

On the ground before the gravestone, half buried by fallen leaves, was a bouquet of flowers. Though they were shrivelled and lifeless, Ivan was glad that someone had thought to put flowers on the grave.

"I miss you," Ivan murmured.

He knelt down before the grave, not caring if he dirtied his coat or trousers. It was so strange to think that just a few feet beneath the earth lay not just his mother and father, but hundreds upon hundreds of people who had died in this town. Eventually, he would be there too — perhaps not in this cemetery, but he would eventually be buried _somewhere_. Ivan hoped that he would share a grave with Yao, not because he wanted their bodies to be together in death — he didn't care too much about what happened to his own body after he had finished using it — but because it would mean that they had stayed together for as long as they lived.

"I've asked myself so many times why you had to die," Ivan said, "I look at the people in this world who get to live long, full lives, and it makes me angry that they get that and the two of you didn't. I know that neither of you were perfect, but you were good people."

Though he didn't believe that they could hear him, it comforted Ivan to talk. Before he left Russia, he would come down to the cemetery every so often and tell his mother and father what had been happening — the things he had done with the boys that he thought were his friends, the marks that he had gotten at school, what his sisters had been up to.

"I've been living in the United States for a couple of years," he said, voice faltering a little — it had been a long time since he had done this, and he felt a bit childish talking to thin air, "I came back because Natalia got drunk and took too many pills. She's okay now."

Ivan bit his lip, trying to think of what to say next — so much had happened since he had last visited this grave.

"I have a boyfriend now. His name is Yao. He's Chinese and… I don't even know where to begin. He's so beautiful, and when I say that, I mean in the way he acts and the things he says to me as well as how he looks. I love him and he loves me, but I'm worried that I'm going to lose him. He was in a car crash and lost his memory, and I lied to him — it was just one little, tiny, stupid lie so that the nurse would let me visit him, but it spun out of control and I'm so scared that when he finds out he's going to hate me."

Ivan sighed.

"I wish you two were here so that you could give me advice. You were so good at that when I was a kid — maybe that's why I was so awful to people when I was a teenager, because I didn't have anyone to guide me. Anastasiya tried, but she was only a kid herself…"

Ivan trailed off. He remembered how he used to be able to sit for hours and talk to this grave, but he was struggling to think of anything to say.

"I remember that Anastasiya told me once that you had gone to a better place. I don't know if she believed it herself or if she was just trying to comfort me. I wanted nothing more than to go to that place and see you again, but I was too afraid that it didn't exist to actually do it. I have a hard time believing that there is an afterlife, but at the same time, I hope that there is. I don't think it's fair that this life is all that there is, especially when some people's time here is so short and so awful, but just because it's unfair it doesn't mean that that's not what happens."

Ivan didn't like to think about death — there was nothing a person could do to avoid it. Sure, one could not take any life-threatening risks and keep their body healthy, but eventually they would die too. He would die, his sisters would die, Yao would die, everyone would die. He envied people who believed in life after death or were at peace with their belief that it was the end.

"I wish you got to meet Yao. He's lovely, I think you would like him a lot."

Again, Ivan's mind didn't stray from Yao for very long.

"I've got time to kill and I can't think of much else to say, so I'm going to tell you more about Yao…" Ivan said.

* * *

><p><strong>I didn't realise when I decided on Ivan's parents names way back in Chapter 6 that the name I'd chosen for his mother was a popular fanon name for fem!Russia. Just clarifying that she is <em>not<em> supposed to be fem!Russia, the name is just a coincidence.**

**Also, if you were wondering why she has a different surname from Ivan and his father, in Russia, surnames have different suffixes to denote whether someone is male or female. The feminine version of Braginsky is Braginskaya.**


	28. The Truth

After eleven days in Russia, it was good to be back. It had been nice to see Anastasiya and Natalia, but Ivan doubted that he would miss the town and the house and the land now that he had left them behind once more. Visiting his parents' grave had also been good, but it was no substitute for actually seeing _them_.

Ivan wasted no time collecting his bag, going through customs and getting out of the airport. Outside, he found a payphone and dialled Yao's number. Though he was calling to organise being picked up from the airport, Ivan was mostly excited about hearing his lover's voice again.

"Hello, who is this?"

Ivan broke into a grin as soon as he heard that voice. it had been too long since he had spoken to Yao.

"Hey Yao, it's—"

There was a click, and the call was over. Ivan frowned and dialled the number again. This time, there was no answer.

Perhaps there had been a power cut in their neighbourhood. Would the phone still ring if there was? Maybe Yao had dropped the phone somewhere that he couldn't reach, or he had remembered something important that he needed to do and had left the house.

Maybe he didn't want to talk to Ivan.

Maybe he had remembered something.

Heart racing, Ivan picked the phone up again and dialled a different number — a taxi company whose phone number was advertised on the side of the building. Ivan stumbled over his words as he told the woman who answered where he wanted to be picked up from, anxiously awaiting the cab's arrival. Part or him wanted to see Yao _now_, to find out just what he had remembered and where that left then, but another part of the Russian dreaded seeing Yao. The smaller man had never been angry with him, not properly. They'd had a few disagreements over trivial things, but those hadn't mattered. Ivan hated seeing Yao upset, but he couldn't bear Yao's anger being directed it him.

The taxi finally pulled up to the curb, and Ivan climbed into the back seat. The driver was an older man with greying hair and dark eyes. Though he tried to make conversation with Ivan, the Russian barely registered that he was being spoken to.

Filled with a mix of dread and anticipation, Ivan watched the city streets pass by through the window of the cab. The airport was in a part of the city that he had only visited a handful of times, but before long the neighbourhood that he did not recognise gave way to the familiar streets of the inner city. It was only a matter of minutes — ten, maybe fifteen — before the taxi crossed the bridge into the suburb where Ivan and Yao lived. The Russian didn't know how to feel. He was going to see Yao again, but there was no way of knowing if their reunion would be a pleasant one.

There was no rhyme or reason to Yao's sporadic memory recovery. Sometimes he would go for a week or more without remembering anything, and other times he would regain a whole host of memories within the space of a few days. Maybe nothing had changed since the last time Ivan had seen his lover, but maybe Yao had remembered everything.

"This is where you want to be dropped off, right?" the driver asked as the taxi slowed to a halt.

They had stopped a few houses down from Yao's, but Ivan nodded anyway as he grabbed a fistful of notes from his wallet. Glancing briefly at them to make sure it was the right currency, Ivan handed them to the driver without counting.

"Keep the change," he said, climbing out of the taxi and heaving his suitcase onto the sidewalk.

"This is over five hundred dollars! You sure you want to give me all this?" the driver asked.

"I said keep the change!" Ivan shouted, already a ways up the street.

He couldn't afford to make a habit of throwing money away, but he had a sudden urge to see Yao _now_. He didn't slow as he approached the house, afraid that if he did, he would be overwhelmed by nerves and wimp out before he reached the front door.

Ivan allowed himself only a moment to take a deep breath and ready himself before knocking on the front door. Though it was quiet, no television or music coming from inside the house, the Russian was sure that Yao was inside — strange as it sounded, he could almost sense it.

* * *

><p>Yao looked up from the book that he was reading when he heard a knock on the door. He knew that it would be Ivan. Ever since the Russian had called, Yao had been waiting for him to arrive. He didn't feel bad about hanging up — he needed to speak to Ivan in person, and didn't feel like pretending everything was okay on the phone.<p>

Not long after Ivan had left for Russia, Yao had started remembering things — things that didn't quite make sense. He had recovered quite a few memories from the past year, but none of Ivan. At first he thought nothing of it, knowing that they hadn't lived together back then and that they wouldn't have seen each other very often, but it soon became apparent to the Chinese man that something was very, very wrong. It was almost as if Ivan had never been a part of Yao's life.

It was time to find out the truth. Yao got up from where he was sitting and opened the front door.

"Yao, I…"

Ivan trailed off, as it the look on the smaller man's face had put him off.

"Did you lie to me?" Yao asked.

There was no sense in beating around the bush; he had questions, and he wanted answers.

Ivan sighed deeply, head bowed, looking like he was in pain. If Yao had seen Ivan like this a little over a week ago, he would have been heartbroken, but he had no sympathy for the other man.

"I'm so sorry, I can explain," Ivan said, his voice barely audible.

"You'd better have a damn good explanation, Ivan, because the only ones I can think make you look like a lying, manipulative—"

Yao stopped, deciding that insulting Ivan wouldn't achieve anything. He didn't want to lose control, he just wanted to know what had happened.

"They don't look very good for you. So tell me what actually happened," said Yao.

Ivan took a deep breath and looked up.

"What have you remembered?" he asked.

"No. What I've remembered doesn't change what actually happened," Yao said coldly.

"Okay, fine, I lied, but I didn't do it to hurt you. You needed someone, Yao. I didn't want you to be alone when you were so fragile, when you didn't know anything about yourself or your life, and I made you happy, didn't I? We were happy together right?" Ivan asked with a weak smile.

"Who the hell are you?" Yao asked, not answering Ivan's question. "Did I know you at all before you lied your way into my life? Because I don't remember you at all."

"Yes! Yes, you did! We met the night before the accident and—"

"The night before the accident? You knew me for _one day_ before you decided to pretend to be my boyfriend?" Yao asked angrily.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, but you need to understand that I was just trying to help," said Ivan.

Yao could tell that Ivan was on the verge of tears, though he wasn't sure why. Ivan wasn't the one who had been lied to and manipulated, and he must have known that this was coming.

"You told me that you loved me all the time, right from the day of the accident. I'm guessing that was a lie too," said Yao.

"No! No, I never lied about that! It sounds crazy, but I always loved you," said Ivan.

"You're right, that does sound crazy," said Yao.

Before Ivan could reply, the Chinese man slammed the door.

"Yao, please! I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to hurt you!"

Turning the lock, Yao sat down on the sofa, grabbed the remote and switched on the TV, turning the volume up to drown out Ivan's pleas.

He didn't know how to feel about what Ivan had done. The man was obviously not right in the head, but hadn't Yao always known that?

Still, he'd never suspected that Ivan had been lying to him. In hindsight, there were a few clues, but it had been a good lie, a clever one, and Ivan had been quick to fill any holes in the story. Besides, who would think of such a thing? People will believe a lie when it makes more sense than the truth — ironically, he'd told Ivan that himself — and it made a hell of a lot more sense for the Russian to be Yao's boyfriend. The truth, that Ivan had tricked Yao into thinking that they were a couple, made no sense at all.

Yao flopped back onto the sofa with a sigh. As amazing as his time with Ivan had been, it was over. Even though Yao couldn't imagine loving someone the way he had loved Ivan, he couldn't forgive the Russian for what he had done. He had more pride than that.

Yao glanced at the television, which he had been ignoring until now, and found that some romance movie was playing. Great, that was exactly what he needed to see right now — a pretty girl and a handsome man chatting and giving each other cute, loving looks over coffee. They would get a happy ending, the people in these movies always did. It was so predictable how they always ended up in such perfect bliss. Yao had thought that his relationship with Ivan was like that, but it had all been a lie.

With an angry sigh, Yao flicked over to another channel. He didn't need to be reminded of how beautiful love could be when his own love story was over.


	29. If We Ever Meet Again

Yao didn't hear from Ivan at all during the following week. The house seemed so empty without him, even though the Chinese man had gotten used to his boyfriend's absence while the other man was in Russia. It was different knowing that he wouldn't be back.

Yao tried his hardest to enjoy his newfound singledom — only having to cook enough for one, taking up as much room as he wanted on the double bed and having the free time and the privacy to do whatever he wanted — but nothing about this new lifestyle made up for the fact that, although he was hesitant to admit it, he kind of missed Ivan. Perhaps a little more than _kind of_.

He didn't want to miss Ivan. The Russian had lied and manipulated him; he didn't _deserve_ to be missed. But he had also loved Yao in his own strange way, and Yao had loved him back. He couldn't just turn those feelings off and forget all about Ivan, but he could try to move on with his life.

Yao hadn't told anyone what Ivan had done, nor had he told anyone that they weren't together. Francis, intuitive as ever, had noticed that something had been off about his Chinese friend lately, but Yao had explained it away, saying that Ivan was still in Russia and that he was a little down because he was missing him. Yao needed some time to wrap his head around what had happened without having to deal with what other people thought about it.

"Hey, Yao, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Yao looked up from his desk to find that a coworker whose name he couldn't quite remember — Jeremy? Jerome? — was standing in his office cubicle.

"Sure," said Yao.

"Well, just because Soates is running for mayor, it doesn't mean that he's not interested in issues that affect the entire state and the whole country."

Yao nodded. As Jerome, or whatever his name was, continued to explain, the Chinese man's mind began to wander. Something about what Ivan had done didn't quite seem right. They had been in the car together when it had crashed — that wasn't just another lie, the hospital staff had confirmed it — but why? They had, according to Ivan, met the day before the accident, so it was entirely possible that Yao had just been giving his new acquaintance a ride somewhere, but something told the Chinese man that there was more to the story than that. It was almost as if there was something that Yao hadn't quite remembered, yet he remembered enough to know that it was there.

* * *

><p><em>Though Yao didn't mind the fact that his friends drank and he didn't, he didn't really appreciate them inviting him out with them and getting drunk off their faces. They were capable of being moderate, and most of the time they were, but tonight was not 'most of the time'.<em>

_"Yaaoooo!"_

_The Chinese man looked up from his glass of iced tea to find that Alfred was waving the table number at him._

_"What?" asked Yao._

_"Have you ever thought… about… how much the number three looks like a butt?" the American asked, barely finishing his sentence before bursting into a fit of giggles._

_Yao rolled his eyes. Alfred, always chatty, got even more talkative when drunk and made even less sense than usual. Arthur, on the other hand, was face down on the table, muttering under his breath, while Francis was drunkenly flirting with the waitress._

_Yao sighed. He wished he hadn't agreed to come out tonight — if he'd known it would be one of _these_ nights, he would have stayed home._

_Absently gazing across the room, Yao accidentally made eye contact with a man sitting alone in another booth. The man smiled at him, and Yao smiled back. He found himself wondering what the other man was doing here alone — perhaps he was waiting for a friend or a date, but maybe he didn't have any company._

_Taking one last look at his friends, Yao decided on a whim to get up and say hello to the man across the room._

"_Hey," Yao said when he was close enough to be heard, "is anyone sitting here?"_

_The man shook his head._

"_If you'd like to join me, you're welcome to," he said._

_He had an accent — Eastern European, Yao thought, but the Chinese man couldn't narrow it down any further._

"_I'm Yao, by the way," he said as he sat down across from the blonde._

"_I'm Ivan."_

"_So, Ivan, why are you here?" asked Yao._

_The other man shrugged._

"_There's nowhere else to be. What about you?" he asked._

"_I'm here with my idiot friends," Yao said, gesturing toward the table where the other three were sitting, "but they've all drunk themselves silly."_

_Ivan smiled — though he was a big, husky guy, Yao thought that his smile was kind of cute._

_"Well, I'm glad they did, because otherwise you wouldn't have come over here to talk to me," said Ivan._

_Was he _flirting_ with Yao? The Chinese man was a little rusty when it came to romance, so he honestly wasn't sure. Perhaps Ivan was just being kind._

_"I like your accent. Where are you from?" asked Yao._

_Oh god, was _he_ flirting? Yao did think that Ivan's accent was pretty neat, but was that the sort of compliment you gave someone who you had just met?_

_"Russia. And you?" asked Ivan, picking up his glass and taking a drink._

_It looked like some sort of alcohol, but Yao wasn't sure which kind. As long as it didn't get Ivan as drunk as the Chinese man's friends, he didn't mind._

_"China," Yao replied._

_"Very nice. Do you want a drink? I'll pay," Ivan offered._

_"Sure. Something non-alcoholic," said Yao._

_"You don't drink?" Ivan asked._

_Yao shook his head._

_"Nah, not really. I need to drive home anyway, so even if I were to make an exception, it wouldn't be tonight."_

_"Okay, I'll get you something," said Ivan._

_As he watched the Russian get up and walk over to the bar, Yao thought to himself that perhaps coming out tonight wasn't such a bad idea._

* * *

><p><em>"Well, here we are," said Yao, getting out of the car and stuffing the key into his pocket.<em>

_Ivan had offered to treat him to a meal at a restaurant that he liked, but they had pulled up outside only to find that it was closed. Not wanting to say goodbye to the Russian quite yet, Yao had offered to cook for him instead._

_"Your house is really nice," said Ivan, following Yao up to the front door of his house._

_"Oh, thank you," Yao said as he unlocked the door._

_"No, thank _you_. It was really nice of you to invite me over and offer to cook for me," said Ivan._

_Yao shook his head as he walked inside and switched on the light._

_"Don't be silly. I like cooking, and you seem—"_

_Before he could finish his sentence, Ivan pulled Yao close and planted a kiss on his lips. The Chinese man froze, not sure what to think. He liked Ivan — he wouldn't have invited him over if he didn't — but did he like him like that?_

_"I'm sorry," said Ivan, voice laced with regret._

_Yao looked up at Ivan, noticing the bigger man's look of longing. When was the last time that someone had looked at him like that?_

_"Don't be," he said, wrapping his arms around the Russian and kissing him back._

_It had been too long since Yao had been held, kissed or _wanted_ like this; he'd forgotten how good it felt._

_Gently, Ivan pushed Yao down onto the sofa. The Chinese man looked up breathlessly as Ivan climbed on top of him, pinning the smaller man between his knees._

"_God, you're so beautiful," Ivan breathed, face inches away from Yao's._

_The smaller man couldn't think of anything to say in reply, and instead pressed his lips against Ivan, giggling as their noses bumped. Yao wasn't drunk __—_ _the only alcohol he'd tasted tonight was the vodka on his companion's lips __—__ but it was as if he was intoxicated by Ivan's presence._

"_Do you want this?" Ivan asked, fingering the top button of Yao's shirt._

_The Chinese man nodded — he knew exactly what the other man meant. Did he want that button to be undone, and then the next one, and then all of them? Did he want all of his clothes and Ivan's to end up in a pile on the floor? Did he want to have sex with Ivan?_

_Yao had never slept with someone so soon after meeting them, but he'd never felt an instant connection with someone either. Of course he wanted this._

"_Do you have a bed?" asked Ivan, voice a little too breathy and seductive to be asking such a mundane question._

"_Yeah, yeah. Would you rather we did this there?" asked Yao._

_The other man nodded._

_They wasted no time moving to the bedroom. Once there, Yao discretely shoved his panda and Hello Kitty plushies under the bed — he wasn't ashamed of his affinity for cute things, but the man that he was about to have sex with didn't really need to see them._

_Looking back up, Yao grabbed Ivan's scarf and tugged it off, watching as a grin spread across the Russian's face. Yao lay back as Ivan set about taking the smaller man's shirt off, shrugging out of it once the buttons were undone and reaching up to return the favour. Though Ivan looked thick and bulky in his winter coat, Yao was surprised to find that underneath his clothes, the Russian was well-built and just a little stocky — certainly not lithe, but not too pudgy either._

_Yao unbuckled Ivan's belt, but didn't bother unzipping his pants. Instead, he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of the bigger man's trousers, feeling his package through the material of his boxers. Ivan moved his hips, his member pressing against Yao's hand. He was _big_, and already half-hard._

_"Have you got lube?" Ivan asked breathlessly, the smaller man's hand slipping out of his pants as he pulled back._

_Yao shook his head in reply._

_"I don't really do this sort of thing," he offered as an explanation._

_Ivan nodded, wordlessly reaching for his discarded coat, feeling around inside the pocket until he found what he was looking for._

"_Are you sure you want to do this?" Ivan asked, kneeling before Yao with a bottle of lubricant in his hand._

_Yao nodded._

"_That's good," Ivan said, leaning down to kiss Yao on the lips._

_Yao wrapped his arms around Ivan as the bigger man moved his kisses to the side of the other's neck. It wasn't just Ivan's lips roaming Yao's body; his hands were exploring the smaller man's slender figure too. One fumbled with the his jeans, trying to undo the button and zipper without looking, and the other danced lightly across his chest, ghosting across the sensitive nubs that hardened at his touch. Ivan seemed to notice how quickly Yao responded to that touch, as he turned his attention to Yao's chest, teasing one of the stiff buds with his tongue as he gently squeezed the other between his thumb and index finger._

"_You're making this too easy for me," Ivan said with a smirk, pausing briefly as he felt Yao's manhood harden beneath the hand still groping at his trousers._

"_You're the one who made this easy," Yao said, his voice breathy, "kissing me, letting you know that you wanted me before I knew I wanted you."_

"_But you want me now?" asked Ivan._

"_Yes," Yao said, looking deep into the other man's violet eyes, "I want you."_

* * *

><p>"Wednesday would be preferable, but Tuesday is good too."<p>

Yao blinked, barely registering Jerome's words. He didn't know how long he had zoned out for, but he didn't really care. That was what Ivan had failed to mention, that they _had_ met at a bar and had a one night stand. Yao had thought that that was just another lie, but it was the truth. The only difference was that it hadn't happened a year ago, but the day before the accident.

The Chinese man was suddenly hit with an overwhelming need to see Ivan. Not to forgive him and not to tell him that it was really, truly over, but simply to talk. He'd been too angry last time, every excuse of Ivan's setting him off and making him even madder at the other man. Even if there was no hope for their love, Yao at least wanted to part on good terms, knowing everything about what had happened.

"I'm sorry, Jerome, I just remembered I have to sort something out for Soates' meeting with the head of the Larkin Institute," Yao said, getting up from his desk.

"_Jerome_? My name is Benjamin," said the other man, momentarily furrowing his brow, "but that's fine, just think it over and get back to me if you can do it."

"Will do," Yao said, though he hadn't the faintest idea what he was agreeing to. He didn't care; all that mattered right now was getting away and going to see Ivan.

It wasn't until Yao got to the parking garage where his car was that he considered that there might be consequences for skiving off and visiting his boyfriend — or whatever Ivan was to him — during work, but he paid that thought no mind. He wouldn't take long, and besides, it wasn't like Soates would fire him, not when Yao knew about his affair.

There were two places that Ivan could be; his apartment and the bar where he worked. Yao decided to visit the apartment first. He was almost looking forward to seeing Ivan — mostly so that he would know where they stood, but he also missed the Russian, just a little.

It was only a short drive to Ivan's apartment, and Yao got there within ten minutes. He'd been there a few times with Ivan, and though it wasn't much of a home, it was certainly a nice place. Ivan had the penthouse apartment, which must have cost a small fortune to rent, and Yao made his way up the winding staircase to his former lover's front door.

"Ivan," he called sharply, ringing the doorbell.

Yao could hear the bell sound inside, but nothing else. Perhaps Ivan wasn't home.

"It's me, Yao," he said.

If the other man was inside, hearing Yao's voice and name would surely get him to the door. The dark-haired man waited for a moment, and was turning to leave when his elbow brushed against the door handle, pushing it open.

Yao contemplated the door, ever so slightly ajar. If it was unlocked, then Ivan was probably home, so why hadn't he answered? The paranoid recesses of Yao's brain told him that Ivan had decided to fuck the pain away and was in bed with someone else, keeping quiet so that Yao wouldn't have to see him like that, but Yao's rational side was adamant that he was either asleep or not home at all.

Yao opened the door further and stepped inside. Entering someone's home without their permission wasn't right, but neither was lying one's way into another person's heart. Yao saw no need to do what was right where Ivan was concerned.

The front room was spacious but empty, just as Yao had remembered it. There were only a few pieces of furniture in the entire apartment to begin with, and they were made to seem even more sparse by the sheer size of it — the entire apartment was easily bigger than Yao's house. He didn't understand why Ivan had rented it for so long and never bothered to furnish it properly.

Tiptoeing so that he wouldn't disturb Ivan if he really was sleeping, Yao quietly made his way into the living room. His heart sank as he took in the sight that awaited him.

The carpet was covered in shards of broken glass, glittering in the sunlight that streamed in through the window. Clear glass from the broken coffee table and coloured glass from the smashed bottle whose neck was still clutched in Ivan's unmoving hand. His entire body was still, his face tranquil, as if he was asleep.

Yao hoped that he was just sleeping, the booze that he'd drunk before the bottle broke having sent him into a deep, deep slumber.

The alternative was unthinkable.


	30. Please Don't Let It Go

In that moment, Yao knew that he hadn't given up on Ivan, that there was still a part deep inside of him that couldn't bear to live without the man who lying just a few feet away from him on the floor.

The sparkling glass and Ivan's tranquil expression were, in some sick way, beautiful, but the scene was marred by the carpet stained with alcohol and vomit. The awful stench hung in the air, growing stronger as Yao, now over his initial shock, rushed across the room to where Ivan was lying. Kneeling down beside him, Yao's fingers slipped under the bigger man's scarf, feeling for a pulse. Sure enough, that rhythmic throbbing was there, and Yao breathed a sigh of relief.

Ivan was alive.

For a brief moment, Yao had been terrified that he wasn't, that Ivan was dead and it was all his fault. The Russian had obviously been drinking because of him, because of the things he had said and the way he had rejected him. Although Ivan hadn't died and there was no way Yao could have known that this would happen, he still felt guilty.

Until now, Yao hadn't given any thought to how Ivan must be feeling. He had lied, and that had been wrong, but he had loved Yao. The Chinese man meant the world to Ivan, so his rejection would have crushed him. Though he didn't trust Ivan the way he had before, there was a part of Yao that still loved him and hated to think that he had hurt him like that.

There were too many parts of Yao, each feeling a different way about Ivan. As a whole, he still didn't know how to feel.

* * *

><p>Ivan woke up with an aching body, a foul taste in his mouth and a pounding headache. His heavy eyelids struggled open, but he squeezed them shut a fraction of a second later, wishing he hadn't tried to look at his surroundings. The bright light streaming in through the window hurt Ivan's eyes and made his headache even worse, and the sound of the traffic outside didn't do much to help.<p>

Ivan groaned, rolled over and buried his head into the pillow. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but falling asleep with a headache like this was impossible.

"Ivan? Are you awake?"

Ivan froze when he heard that voice. What was Yao doing here?

"Yao?" Ivan croaked, turning his head and opening his eyes just a crack, trying to look at Yao without making his headache worse.

"Drink this," said Yao, thrusting a cup toward Ivan's mouth.

Ivan opened his mouth a little, and Yao titled the cup so that water poured into his mouth. Ivan drank it all up, loving how it wet his dry mouth and made the pounding in his head hurt a little less. Knowing that Yao was there beside him was also good — Ivan didn't quite understand why, but he was glad anyway.

Ivan swallowed the last of his drink, a little dribbling out the corners if his mouth, and lay back. Yao was sitting on the edge of the bed, casting a shadow over Ivan, who could open his eyes a little more now that there was something blocking out the light.

"Do you want some more water?" Yao asked, his voice soft and soothing.

Hearing him like that made Ivan so happy — the last time they had spoken, Yao had been so angry with him. It was good knowing that he didn't feel that way any longer.

Ivan shook his head.

"Okay. If you need anything else, just ask," said Yao.

He pulled away, as if to leave, and Ivan grabbed hold of his hand.

"Don't go," he said.

"I'm cleaning up the mess you left in the living room. I'm literally just a few metres away. You get some more rest," said Yao.

He leaning forward and placed a kiss on Ivan's forehead, lips ghosting across the other's skin, barely touching him.

Ivan closed his eyes, a dreamy smile on his face. Yao was being so gentle and tender again, just as he had been before. He must have forgiven him.

"I love you," Ivan said, letting go of Yao's hand.

"I…"

He didn't finish that sentence. Ivan opened his eyes, hoping to gauge Yao's reaction, but he was gone.

* * *

><p>Much later, Ivan woke again to the smell of something cooking. That was good, it meant Yao was still there. Though his body still ached, Ivan's head was no longer pounding, and he didn't feel absolutely horrible. He struggled out of bed, noticing for the first time that he was wearing his t-shirt and boxers. He didn't remember taking his coat and pants off — had Yao done that?<p>

"Yao?" Ivan called as he walked out of his room.

Sure enough, Ivan's dark-haired lover was in the kitchen, frying something in a pan on the stove. Yao turned around when he heard Ivan's voice, picking up a glass of water from the counter and handing it to the other man.

"Drink this," he said.

Ivan obeyed — the water didn't taste quite as nice now that there was no thirst to quench, no taste to wash away.

"I put aspirin in your last drink, so your head should feel better," said Yao.

Ivan nodded.

"Yeah, yeah it is. Thanks," he said.

"I'm making you something to eat," said Yao, "I read somewhere that bacon sandwiches are the best food for a hangover, so I guess you'll find out if that's true."

Ivan smiled. As far as he knew, there wasn't any food left in the apartment. He'd thrown out everything that had expired after sitting in the cupboards or refrigerator for more than two months, and eaten everything else during the past week. Yao must have gone out to buy food for him — after what had happened, knowing that the other man cared enough about Ivan to put him to bed, clean up the apartment, go out, buy food and come back and cook it for him meant a lot.

"Thank you, Yao," said Ivan, giving Yao a hug.

The smaller man's body felt stiff in Ivan's arms, and when the Russian went to kiss him, Yao turned his head so that the other's lips touched his cheek, not his mouth.

Ivan frowned, giving Yao a quizzical look.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. What happened to the gentle, tender Yao who had kissed him before?

"When you're feeling better, we need to talk things through," said Yao.

"I feel fine now. Please tell me what's going on," Ivan pleaded. He needed to know what was going on — he had thought that Yao had forgiven him, but now he wasn't so sure.

Yao sighed.

"Eat your sandwich and then we'll talk," he said, "do you want to get dressed while I finish cooking? I put your other clothes in the wash, but if you have any others…"

Ivan shrugged. He didn't care about food or what he was wearing; all Ivan wanted was to know where he and Yao stood.

Ivan didn't pester Yao for answers, though; if the smaller man was already upset with him, he didn't want to make it worse.

"I might have another glass of water," said Ivan.

"Good idea," said Yao, taking his glass and filling it with water from the tap.

Yao passed the glass back, his fingers brushing against Ivan's. The Russian smiled; it wasn't much, but he'd missed Yao's touch so badly.

"Why don't you go sit down on the sofa? I'll bring your sandwich out when it's done. Be careful on the carpet, though — I'm pretty sure I cleared all of the glass away, but I might have missed a piece," said Yao, turning to the pan on the stove, his back facing Ivan.

The bigger man nodded and walked out into the living room. He supposed that Yao needed a moment alone to think about what he was going to say — Ivan's stomach churned just thinking about what that might be. Was Yao going to leave him forever? He'd been so stiff and awkward when Ivan had hugged him before, so maybe he didn't feel any affection toward him any longer. But if that was true, why had Yao stayed and taken care of Ivan? What about the kiss? What did that mean?

Ivan was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he wasn't alone in the room until he felt a place being set down on his lap.

"I hope it tastes good. I haven't fried bacon in a long, long time," said Yao, sitting down at the opposite end of the couch.

"I bet it will. Your cooking always does," said Ivan.

He picked up the sandwich, took a bite, and then nodded enthusiastically.

"It's really good," he said after swallowing his mouthful.

He wasn't just saying it to flatter Yao; though he preferred his lover's Chinese cooking, the sandwich was good too.

"I'm glad," said Yao.

They sat in silence as Ivan continued to eat. Though he wanted to wolf it down so that Yao could finally tell him what was on his mind, Ivan ate slowly and politely, not wanting to do anything that would make Yao mad. He knew that his lover — or ex-lover, if that was what Yao was now — wasn't so volatile that he would snap just because Ivan was a little piggish while eating, but his nerves were making him more than a little paranoid.

Finally, Ivan swallowed his final bite of the sandwich.

"That was delicious, thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," said Yao.

They sat in silence for a moment before Yao spoke again.

"I remembered the night we met," he said, "the night we spent together. I liked you a lot then — that doesn't excuse your lies, but it makes them… a little more understandable."

"You hadn't remembered that the last time we talked?" Ivan asked.

Yao shook his head.

"No, I hadn't," he replied, "Ivan, I don't know what I want to do. I don't want to lose you, but after what you did… would forgiving you be right? Is it wrong that a part of me still loves you? Am I being too hard on you? On me?"

"Yao, if you want me back, you don't have to feel guilty about it. I never meant to hurt you, and I never forced you to do anything you didn't want to do. I wasn't trying to trick or manipulate you, I just told the nurse at the hospital that I was your boyfriend so she'd let me visit you, and I didn't know how to tell you that I wasn't. You loved me, Yao. I know I'm not worthy of your love, and I know I don't deserve you, but you loved me, and I made you so happy," said Ivan.

The Russian could feel a lump in his throat as he spoke. Yao didn't know how to feel, or what to do. If he could somehow convince the other man that he'd meant no harm and remind him of how happy they'd been when they were together, he would choose to stay with Ivan.

"I don't know if I still love you like that, Ivan," Yao said, looking down at his own lap.

"Then find out! Give me a second chance, give _us_ a second chance! If you find that there's no place for me in your heart, then there's nothing either of us can do about that, but maybe there is. You said yourself that a part of you still loves me, and you remember how happy we were together. Don't you want that again?" asked Ivan.

He felt a tear roll down his cheek, and he knew that he must look pathetic begging, pleading and crying like that, but he didn't care.

Looking at Yao, he could see how tempted the Chinese man was to say yes, but Ivan knew that Yao had his pride. Could he allow himself to give in?

"I… I want to, but…"

"I love you, and I want you to be happy. That's why I want us to try again — not just because I miss you, but because I want to make you happy again," said Ivan.

Yao bit his lip and looked away. Ivan's body tensed as he awaited the other man's answer.

"I would do anything for you, Yao. _Anything_."

"Would you let me go?" Yao asked, turning back to Ivan. "If I tried to love you again but found that I couldn't, would you let that be the end?"

Ivan took a deep breath. Could he let Yao go? He doubted he would ever forget Yao, get over him or stop loving him, but surely he could leave him alone and let him get on with his life.

"If you wanted it to be the end, I wouldn't be able to stop you. It would be your choice, and if that was what you chose… I would hate it, and I would miss you so much, but I would let you go," he said.

"Okay," said Yao, reaching for Ivan's hand.

The Russian clasped his lover's hand, and the smaller man gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"We'll try again?" asked Ivan.

"We'll try again," said Yao.

* * *

><p><em><strong>One Little Lie<strong>_** is now the longest RoChu story on FFnet, and I doubt I ever would have gotten it to this point without my wonderful readers! Thank you all so much for sticking with this story.**

**(Also, if anyone would like to try and knock this story out of the top spot, then be my guest! This pairing could definitely use some more long fanfics.)**


	31. Audience of One

Yao looked up from the book that he was reading when he heard Ivan walk into the bedroom. He had just gotten out of the shower and was naked apart from a towel around his waist. Though Yao's mind and heart regarded Ivan differently, his body's response was the same as ever. The bigger man's physique still did things to Yao that he didn't quite understand. He'd seen bodies before, of course, and some he had found attractive, but Ivan was different. Was it because Yao loved him? The effect that Ivan's body had on Yao hadn't changed one bit — did that mean that he still loved him?

"Nice shower?" Yao asked, glancing back down at his book.

"It was great," said Ivan, giving Yao a smile that he only just saw out of the corner of his eye, "are you going to have one?"

Yao nodded.

"Once I've finished this chapter," he said.

In all honesty, he wasn't and hadn't been paying any attention to the book in his lap. It was Tracy Foster-Jones' latest bestseller, and though it was more adult-oriented that her usual fair, it just wasn't Yao's bag.

The dark-haired man's gaze strayed to Ivan, who had dropped his towel and was rummaging through the dresser drawers for something to wear. It would be so easy for Yao to tell him not to bother getting dressed, that he was in the mood for something else tonight, but he didn't. It was as if something was stopping him, though he didn't quite know what.

It had been a long day, and Yao was tired. That was it, wasn't it? And there was no need for them to get intimate so soon; though it felt like it had been an eternity since he and Ivan had slept together, Yao knew that it had only been a few weeks.

He remembered oh so clearly the last time they had made love. How happy he had been, sharing his body with the man that he loved and spending time afterwards in his tender embrace. Then came the call from Ivan's sister that had whisked him away to Russia, and by the time he returned, everything had changed.

"Yao?"

Ivan's voice brought the Chinese man back to the present, where he had zoned out and was staring sightlessly at the man who had been occupying his thoughts.

"Sorry, I was just thinking," he said.

The old Yao would have blushed if he had been caught staring while Ivan was getting dressed, but right now, he didn't care. He was no longer a confused amnesiac, and Ivan was no longer… whatever Ivan had been that he wasn't any more. Yao didn't know. Maybe he was still a highly confused person.

"What were you thinking about?" asked Ivan, giving Yao a sweet smile.

"Just a character in this book," he lied.

"What about them?" Ivan asked.

"Uh, well, her name is Ying, and I was wondering if that was from the original or if it had been changed for the Chinese version," Yao answered.

Ivan wasn't the only one who was a good liar, though Yao wasn't really sure why he was so hell-bent on lying.

"I should have my shower before it gets too late," said Yao.

He slipped a bookmark between the pages of the novel in his lap, placed it on the bedside table and gave Ivan a quick kiss on the nose before heading to the bathroom. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts, and a solitary shower was just what he needed.

* * *

><p>Home; that was what Yao's house, his bed and his warm embrace were to Ivan. <em>Yao<em> felt like home to him, and though he knew that it was only temporary, that the Chinese man was still deciding whether or not he should trust Ivan, he loved being with Yao once more. Even when he wasn't with Yao, Ivan was happy knowing that he was at least worthy of a second chance. The burden of knowing that Yao could discover his lie at any moment had been lifted, and though Ivan knew it would take a lot of time and effort to get Yao to trust him again, for now, he was content.

How could he not be content? The love of his life was asleep in his arms, having welcomed him back into his life, his home and his bed.

Ivan had noticed that Yao was acting a little distant, but that was to be expected. They weren't lovers as they had been before; though they weren't quite back at square one, it would take time to convince Yao to trust him again. That was fine, Ivan was a patient man. He had won Yao's trust and eventually his heart once before, so there was no reason to doubt that he couldn't do it again. Besides, it wasn't as if winning Yao's love was a difficult or unpleasant task. Ivan had gained Yao's affection by being nice to him, which the Russian loved to do anyway.

Ivan inhaled, breathing in the scent of Yao's hair. God, he smelled good, and Ivan had missed that. During his shower, he'd grabbed Yao's shampoo bottle and spent a moment or two inhaling that scent, but it wasn't quite as good as Yao himself.

If he could bear to disentangle himself from Yao's embrace in the morning, Ivan would bring his lover breakfast in bed. Tomorrow was Thursday, so Yao would have to go to work. That was fine, though. It would give Ivan time to plan even more nice surprises for the smaller man.

* * *

><p>"Yao-Yao, it's time to wake up!"<p>

The long-haired man opened his eyes to find that Ivan was standing beside his bed, beaming at him.

"Isn't it a little early to be so jolly?" Yao asked sleepily.

"I made breakfast for you!" Ivan said, Yao's early morning grumbles doing nothing wipe that grin of his face.

"Yeah?" asked Yao.

"Uh huh! Youtiao, which I made myself because your cookbook says it's a good breakfast food, and a hot chocolate from Starbucks. I remembered that you liked it the last time we went there, so... yeah," said Ivan.

"That's very sweet of you, Ivan. I'll come down to the kitchen and get it soon, I just need a moment to wake up," said Yao.

"Oh, no, I'll bring it to you," said Ivan, blowing Yao a kiss as he left the room.

Yao yawned, stretched and sat up in bed. He had missed Ivan's kindness and the way he showered the smaller man with sweet words and thoughtful gestures.

The Chinese man grabbed a couple of pillows and propped himself up against the wall, taking a moment to rest his eyes as he awaited Ivan's return.

He felt the tray being placed on his lap before he heard Ivan speak.

"Here you go. I hope you like it."

Yao opened his eyes once again, giving the plate of fried bread and take-out cup a quick once over before looking up at Ivan.

"Thank you so much," he said, "it was very sweet of you to do all of this for me."

"You deserve all of this and more," said Ivan, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing a soft kiss on Yao's forehead.

Yao downed a gulp of his hot chocolate before getting stuck into the youtiao. As the smaller man ate, Ivan talked.

"You know how you were wondering about that character in your book last night? The one called Ying? Well, I looked her up on the internet, and in the original English version her name is Laura," he said.

Yao nodded.

"Makes sense," he said between mouthfuls.

Though he didn't care much about the book or the character, Yao thought that it was rather sweet of Ivan to look it up for him.

"You know, Yao, if you want breakfast in bed to become a regular thing, just say. I'd be happy to do this for you more often," said Ivan.

"That's sweet of you, Ivan, but it's really not necessary. I'm twenty seven years old, I can make my own breakfast. Today was a lovely treat, though," said Yao.

Ivan frowned, and Yao was a little worried that he had offended the Russian by rejecting his offer. Though he loved it when Ivan doted on him, the bigger man was Yao's boyfriend, not his servant. Surely Ivan could understand that.

"Twenty seven?" Ivan asked.

Yao nodded._  
><em>

"My birthday was a couple of days ago, so... yeah, I'm twenty seven."

Without warning, Ivan enveloped Yao in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry that we weren't... that I wasn't here for your birthday. I'll do something to make up for it," said Ivan.

Yao nearly said something along the lines of _you don't have to_ or _that's fine, I don't mind at all_, but he stopped himself. He _was_ a little angry that he hadn't been able to enjoy his birthday with Ivan. He had gone out for dinner with his family, which had been nice, but lying to them and saying that Ivan wasn't there because he was still in Russia wasn't._  
><em>

Torn between being honest with Ivan and not wanting to hurt his feelings with the truth, Yao simply hugged back.

"I'm sure that whatever you do will be perfect," he murmured.

Yao didn't know if Ivan heard. He didn't know if he wanted him to.

* * *

><p><strong>The chapter about Yao's birthday being published around the same time as his actual birthday wasn't planned at all. Cool coincidence, though.<strong>

**Also, I'm very sorry that this chapter is so late! I'll do my best not to take so long with the next one.**


	32. Crawl

******Sorry that this chapter took so long! I don't really have an excuse other than being lazy, but I'll try my hardest to get back to my old chapter-a-week schedule. If it's any consolation, I'm hoping to have this story finished by the end of November, and I can safely say that it _will_ be completed before the year is over.******

****Dialogue in _italics_ is in another language.****

* * *

><p>"You okay?"<p>

Yao looked up from his burger, which he had spent more time poking at than actually eating, and found that Francis was looking at him with an expression of concern.

They were eating lunch together at a café not far from their workplace — usually the whole group went out during their lunch break, but on this particular day, Arthur was out of town, Alfred was sick, and Matthew… Yao wasn't entirely sure why Matthew wasn't there, but it was just the two of them.

"I'm fine," Yao said, his eyes never quite meeting Francis's.

"Really? You don't look fine. I've also noticed that you haven't mentioned Ivan at all lately. Did something happen between the two of you?" asked Francis.

Francis's intuition when it came to relationships — especially his and Ivan's — never ceased to amaze Yao.

"I guess, but it's not really… it's not that big a deal," said Yao.

"It's upsetting you, I can tell. That means it is a big deal. If you need advice or just want someone to talk to, I'm here for you," said Francis.

Yao didn't like airing his personal problems like this, especially when the problem involved someone else, but Francis _was_ his friend, and he _did_ give good advice.

"Ivan did something that really upset me and I gave him a second chance, but things aren't like they were before. He's… this is going to sound weird, but he's being too nice. He treats me like an emperor, not a lover. We used to be so comfortable together, but now…"

Yao shrugged. It didn't feel right complaining about how sweet and lovely Ivan was being, but he couldn't help the way that he felt. He missed the old Ivan, and he missed their old relationship.

"Hmmm," Francis murmured, "I think he's afraid of losing you."

"I know he is," Yao said exasperatedly, "I told him that us getting back together was just a trial, that I didn't know if I could trust him or love him again, so of course he is. And I know that the only way I can get the old Ivan back is to tell him that I love him and I want us to be together, but I don't know if do! I don't know if I love Ivan or not!"

Francis frowned.

"I can't help you with that, Yao. You're the only one who knows whether or not you love him," he said.

"I know, it's just… I'm worried that giving him a second chance wasn't the right decision. I thought it was, but I don't know. He loves me so much, and I thought that I was being too hard on him, but… maybe the fact that things aren't like they were is a sign that I shouldn't have done that," said Yao.

"You shouldn't take things like that as a sign of anything, Yao. Do what _you_ want to do," said Francis.

"I don't know what I want to do, that's what the problem is," said Yao.

"Then wait until you do know. Otherwise you might do something you'll regret," said Francis.

Yao nodded. He hadn't expected advice that wasn't something he already knew, so he wasn't disappointed that he hadn't gotten any. The Chinese man worried that he would never know what he wanted. Right now he didn't have a clue, so who was to say that he ever would?

What he really wanted was to wake up and find out that the past few weeks had all been a dream, that Ivan _had _been his boyfriend for over a year and that nothing about their love had changed. That would be perfect, but it was impossible. To get himself out of this mess, he had to make a choice, and that choice rested on two things that Yao simply did not know — if he loved Ivan and if he could forgive him.

Every time he thought he had made up his mind, he started doubting his decision. _He loves you_, one part of Yao's mind would say. _He's deluded. He lied and manipulated you and he doesn't see anything wrong with it_, another would reply, and on and on it would go.

_He didn't mean to hurt you and he never forced you to do anything you didn't want to do._

_He makes up excuses and doesn't understand how wrong lying was._

_He made you feel so happy and wanted and loved._

_What kind of a maniac lies about something like that? Why should you believe anything he ever says?_

_He's messed up, but that doesn't mean he's a bad person. He needs your love._

_Don't stay with him just because he needs you._

_If you leave, you'll never have a love like this again._

_If a love is built on lies and deceit, is it really love?_

"Thanks for listening," Yao mumbled.

"Of course, I'm your friend. I hope you end up making a decision that you're happy with," said Francis.

"So do I, Francis, so do I."

* * *

><p>Ivan smiled as he put down the phone. He had just finished ordering the perfect cake for Yao's belated birthday celebration from a local bakery; it was to be shaped like a bear and iced to look like a panda. Yao was going to love it, but not as much as he was going to love Ivan's gift.<p>

The Russian was happy; things seemed to be going great between him and Yao. It was better this way, now that Yao knew the truth. Of course it would take them a little while to get used to each other again and go back to the way that they had been, but Ivan was confident that it would happen.

Just as Ivan put the phone back, he heard the front door open. He looked up to see that Yao had just gotten in.

"Yao," he called, "you're home."

"Yeah," the Chinese man said, flopping down onto the couch, "why are you?"

"What do you mean?" Ivan asked as he walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa beside his lover.

"Don't you have work?" Yao asked.

"Uh... no, no I don't," said Ivan.

It seemed like the fact that Ivan hadn't been to work since they had gotten back together had finally dawned on Yao.

"It's Tuesday," Yao said, "you shouldn't be home until six."

Ivan bit his lip. He would have explained this earlier, but he had been worried about making Yao mad.

"I don't have a job any more," he said.

"What?" asked Yao.

"Well, I didn't tell my boss that I was going to be going to Russia, and when I got back, I found out I'd been fired," Ivan explained.

Yao looked away, taking a deep breath as he gazed at the wall across from the sofa.

"And you didn't tell me?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," said Ivan.

Of course he should have told Yao. The other man didn't need to be lied to any more than he already had been. It was a small lie, but the _other_ lie had been small to begin with.

"It's fine," Yao said dryly, "you've told me now."

He leaned over and kissed Ivan on the lips. The bigger man wanted to wrap his arms around Yao and pull his body closer, but he didn't. If Yao wanted closeness, then _he_ would be the one to initiate it. Though Ivan hated having to worry about overstepping boundaries, it was best to play it safe and wait until Yao wanted it. It would be worth it in the end if — no, _when_ Yao fell for him again.

* * *

><p>Ivan could be forgiven for thinking that things were running smoothly. Yao hadn't given him any indication of how he really felt, instead pretending that all was well. What the Russian didn't know was that every kiss, touch and smile of Yao's was just the dark-haired man going through the motions, making it seem like things were going back to normal until he decided what to do. He didn't want to hurt Ivan by being cold and distant. There would be no point in marring their relationship with hostility if he ended up falling in love with the bigger man again. Even if he didn't, letting Ivan have a brief period of happiness wasn't so bad, was it? It wasn't as if Yao was stringing him along — for all he knew, he might fall back in love.<p>

Sometimes at night Yao was sure of what he was going to do. He didn't know what it was about being alone in the dark with nothing but his thoughts for company that made him so decisive, but he would make up his mind and drift of to sleep thinking about what he was going to do, only to wake in the morning unsure of his decision. Some nights Yao was sure that he could love Ivan and dreamed of turning to his boyfriend in the morning, kissing him on the lips and telling him not to worry about winning him over, he was nearly there already. Then there were the nights when Yao picked apart every single thing that annoyed him about Ivan and convinced himself that he hated the man. It didn't take Yao long to realise that his night-time judgement was not to be trusted. Still, it was almost comforting to feel sure about something, even if only for a short while.

The Chinese man returned home from work on Wednesday hoping that something would change. He had been holding on to that hope for quite a while, but today was different. This was the day that he and Ivan were going to celebrate his birthday. It had been more than a week since Yao's real birthday, which had passed a few days before he and Ivan got back together — it seemed like it had been much longer.

Yao wouldn't be able to make a decision until something changed, and perhaps that change would come today.

"Happy birthday, Yao!" was the first thing that the long-haired man heard when he walked in the door.

Before Yao could reply, Ivan's arms were around him, pulling him into a tender embrace. He was so soft and warm in his winter coat and scarf, and Yao was reminded of how he used to love Ivan's hugs and cuddles. Now he didn't feel anything other than a faint longing for the way things used to be. It was strange being with Ivan and not feeling the love and adoration that he had once felt.

"Thank you," Yao said, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible.

"Come see what I got you," said Ivan, leading Yao over to the dining room table, laden with gifts and a panda-shaped cake.

"This cake is so cute! Did you make it yourself?" Yao asked.

Now he was genuinely excited — the way he felt about pandas and other cute things hadn't changed, and the cake was adorable.

"No, but I ordered it especially for you! There's a bakery not far from here that does teddy-bear cakes, and I asked them to ice this one differently so it looked like a panda," Ivan explained.

"It's gorgeous, Ivan, thank you so much. I almost don't want to spoil it by eating any," said Yao.

"Do you want a slice now or do you want to open your presents?" asked Ivan.

Yao glanced at the table covered in messily wrapped presents — he hadn't received that many since he was a child, and never from one person.

"There's so many, I guess I better start unwrapping them now," said Yao, picking up one of the gifts.

It was the largest one, so big that it didn't fit on the table and had to sit on the floor beside it. Whatever was beneath the wrapping paper was soft, and the long-haired man was sure that he knew what it was. Sure enough, when he tore the paper off, the gift inside was an enormous stuffed panda, nearly half as tall as Yao.

The Chinese man let out an excited gasp and wrapped his arms around the toy on his lap, pressing his face into the panda's soft fur. It occurred to him that he enjoyed hugging this toy more than being hugged by Ivan, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Now wasn't the time for thoughts like that.

"Thank you, Ivan, it's so adorable. I guess now that I've got this panda, I won't feel bad about eating the cake," said Yao.

Ivan grinned.

"You're the adorable one, Yao," he said.

Though the comment was innocent and rather sweet, Yao couldn't help feeling a little annoyed. He was a twenty-seven year old man, and he was _not_ adorable.

Yao didn't say a word about Ivan's comment, instead setting the panda aside and reaching for one of the other presents on the table. Today wasn't the day for making a scene.

* * *

><p>"Ivan, thanks so much for all of these presents. They're amazing, I love them so much," said Yao.<p>

Ivan grinned.

"I have one last thing for you," he said as he reached into his coat pocket.

The bigger man pulled out a cheque and handed it to Yao, watching his face to gauge his reaction.

"Ivan, this is for _five hundred thousand dollars_," Yao said slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

Ivan nodded.

"You told me when we first met that your dream was to run your own restaurant. You don't have do use the money for that, but it's what I had in mind when—"

"You can't give me this much money," Yao said sharply, handing the cheque back to the Russian.

Ivan didn't understand — why would Yao refuse his gift?

"It's yours. Take it," said Ivan, giving Yao the cheque for the second time, "this isn't just a spur of the moment thing. I spent a long time thinking this over, so I am one hundred percent serious about giving you this."

Yao pursed his lips, staring at the cheque in his hands. He didn't say anything for a moment, and Ivan thought that he had convinced Yao to take the money.

Then he ripped the cheque in half.

"Yao, what was that for?" Ivan asked.

"You can't just give me half a million dollars. That is way too much, Ivan. And if I took it…"

Yao trailed off, averting his eyes.

"If you took it?" Ivan asked.

Yao sighed.

"It doesn't matter, because I'm not going to take it," he said, handing the ripped cheque back to Ivan, "let's just forget about this and have some cake."

Ivan nodded, though he still didn't understand why Yao was acting this way. He thought that the Chinese man would have been delighted — he didn't seem like the type of person to turn down half a million dollars. Ivan didn't even think there was a type of person that turned down that much money. Maybe he didn't understand his lover as well as he had thought.

* * *

><p>Yao was alone.<p>

Ever since Ivan had moved back in, he had spent a lot of time by himself. Most evenings, he would spend, at the very least, half an hour in the spare room. It hadn't been a spare bedroom for years, as Yao had realised a little while after he first moved in that he never had guests and gotten rid of all of the bedroom furniture, but that was still what he called it. Now the room was where Yao kept all of his art supplies. Art had been a hobby of his before the accident — pencil drawings were his specialty, but he also dabbled in painting — but he had barely done anything since he had been with Ivan. Since regaining his memories, Yao had gotten back into drawing.

Sometimes, instead of drawing, he would bring a book into the spare room and spend some time reading; other times he would simply sit and think. Though he had sometimes spent time alone during the early stages of his relationship with Ivan, it had never been something that he had _needed_. Now it was. Perhaps when he had regained his memories, he had regained something else — maybe it wasn't a change in his relationship but a change in himself that had caused this need for solitary time.

Yao had never said anything to Ivan about not disturbing him when he was having his alone time, but the Russian had never interrupted. Yao didn't know if it was an unspoken rule that the other man was following or if Ivan simply needed some time alone as well. He never asked, nor did he ask what Ivan did while he was by himself.

The Chinese man had spent no more than a few minutes in the spare room when he heard the familiar sound of the telephone ringing. Though he was sure that Ivan was closer to it, he got up to answer it anyway; it was his house, so it was more than likely that the call would be for him.

In the kitchen, he grabbed the telephone, and turned to walk back to the other room as he brought it up to his ear.

"Hello, Yao speaking," he said.

"_Yao, it's me. It's your father_," the voice on the telephone said in Chinese.

Yao froze. He hadn't heard from his father since the unfortunate night when he had last called. That had been just over two months ago, and Yao had since remembered him. At first his father had been a faceless villain who had rejected his son without saying why, without saying _anything_, but there was more to him than that. Aiguo had been a good father when Yao was young; stricter than his mother, but just as devoted. Their relationship hadn't ended when Yao left China, as his father had called him at least once a month, often more. They spoke of Yao's new life, his new school and his new siblings. He noticed that the way his father spoke of Xiang and Mei was no different from the way he spoke of Kiku and the foster children, but he never mentioned it.

As the years went by, they talked about exams and graduation and choosing what to study at college. While Chenguang's only advice to Yao was that he should do what made him the happiest, Aiguo tried to steer Yao toward business — he was a businessman himself, and wanted his eldest son (who he often called _his only son_, despite the fact that Xiang existed) to follow in his footsteps eventually. Yao's chosen major, Political Science, was deemed acceptable, though minoring in Art History was not.

Though he hadn't been there in person, Yao's father had always been part of his life. Knowing that made his rejection hurt even more, but it also allowed Yao to see his father as more than just someone who didn't approve of his relationship.

"_You finally called back_," Yao said.

"_I did_," his father replied.

There was a moment of silence as Yao tried to think of what to say. Should he be angry, or should he just be thankful that his father was calling him now?

"_Are you still with... that person_?" the other man asked, breaking the silence.

"_Yes_," Yao replied curtly.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line, and then Yao's father spoke again.

"_Yao, you're twenty-seven years old. When I was your age, I was married and had a child, and yet you're wasting your time experimenting with other men_."

"_I'm not—_"

"_I know I'm not going to change your mind, so I won't bother trying. I just wanted you to know where I stand. I don't approve of what you're doing, but you're still my son, and I still love you_," Aiguo finished.

It was as close to an apology as Yao was going to get, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

"_Why did it take you two months to say that_?" he asked.

"_I needed time to get used to the fact that you were... in that sort of relationship_."

"_I had amnesia and I didn't remember a single thing about you other than the fact that you couldn't even bear to talk to me after you found out about me and Ivan. _I thought that you hated__ _me_," said Yao.

"_I'm sorry that you thought that, Yao. You're my son, I could never hate you. I take it you've remembered me since then?_" asked his father.

"_Yeah, I have. I've remembered a lot, actually. Nearly everything_," said Yao.

"_That's good._"

Another pause; it was hard to know what to say. Yao hoped that it wouldn't always be this way. He couldn't stand having wrecked his relationship with his father just because he had been in love with another man — especially as he didn't even know if he loved Ivan any more.

"_If only I had asked you to move back to China before you started dating this boyfriend of yours, then we could have avoided this mess_," Aiguo mused.

"_What_?" asked Yao. His father had never said anything about him moving back to China before now.

"_You are my son, and I a__m your father, and yet we have been apart for nearly twenty years. That isn't right, Yao. I always thought that when the time was right, I would ask you to come back home. __I suppose it's too late now_," said Yao's father.

"_I suppose it is_," the younger man said, "_at least for now_."

_At least for now_. Yao didn't know if he would ever go back to China. It wasn't impossible, but it wasn't something that he could see on the horizon. It almost seemed wrong to give his father false hope like that. It was kind of like what he had done with Ivan. Actually, it was exactly what he had done with Ivan.

If he didn't stop doing that, he was going to break someone's heart.


	33. Things Change

When Yao's father had first mentioned him moving back to China, saying no had been a knee jerk reaction, but it wasn't long before he started to seriously think about it. What was keeping him here? Not his job, as the election was just around the corner and there would be no need for campaign workers once it was over. His friends and family would miss him if he left, but they would get used to it, and it wasn't as if there was no way for them to keep in touch. As for Ivan, the big question when it came to their relationship was no longer whether they would stay together but when and how Yao would break the news to Ivan that it was over.

Trying to rekindle their love had been a mistake; it had been stupid to think that he could still love the Russian. Why? Because he had been filled with fear when he had found him passed out on the floor, surrounded by vomit and broken glass? Caring whether someone lived or died wasn't love, it was basic human decency.

As far as Yao could tell, Ivan hadn't realised that there was anything wrong. Now that he no longer believed that there was any chance for things to go back to the way they were, staying with the Russian made Yao feel guilty. It wasn't right to string him along like that — it was time to do something about it. His father's mention of him moving back to China couldn't have come at a better time — it gave him an excuse, a way to let Ivan down gently. Instead of saying _I just don't love you_, he could hide behind a plan that Ivan could never fit into. Maybe it was a little cowardly, but it was better than the truth.

Saturday morning seemed like as good a time as any to break the news to Ivan. The morning sun shone down on Yao through the window beside the kitchen table, warming his face as he thought about what he was going to say to his soon to be ex-lover. The sooner Yao got this over and done with, the sooner they would both be able to come to terms with their failed relationship and move on.

He heard the sound of a door opening and looked up to see Ivan coming out of their — no, _Yao's_ — bedroom.

"Ivan," Yao said, "come sit down with me."

The Russian did as he was told, giving Yao a sleepy smile as he sat down across from him.

"You look like you have something important to say," said Ivan.

He didn't sound worried — perhaps Yao was wrong and he _had_ realised that things had changed.

"I'm going back to China," said Yao.

"To visit, or…?"

"To live. Perhaps not permanently, but it won't be a short term thing," the Chinese man explained.

Ivan still didn't look concerned — a little surprised, but certainly not worried.

"When?" he asked.

"I don't know, but probably before the end of the year," said Yao.

Ivan nodded thoughtfully.

"Would you be able to teach me Chinese or should I take an actual class before we go?" he asked.

_That_ was why Ivan wasn't upset about Yao leaving — he thought that he would be going with him.

"You won't need to learn Chinese, Ivan. I'll be going to China alone," said Yao.

The heartbroken look on Ivan's face as what the Chinese man had said dawned on him was almost enough to make Yao reconsider his decision — almost, but not quite.

"You're leaving me?" Ivan asked though he already knew the answer.

"Ivan, I'm sorry, but—"

"I'll change, Yao. I'll try harder to win you over, I'll do anything you want, I just… please don't do this, Yao. I'm so sorry that I lied to you, but I will do anything to make it up to you. Anything, Yao! Anything!"

The Chinese man shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying not to notice the tears welling up in Ivan's eyes.

"There's nothing you can do. Things are different now, and not just because you lied. I've remembered so much! I'm not the scared, confused amnesiac that I was when I fell in love with you, and I'm definitely not the person that you think you love," said Yao.

"Yao… no, I promise you that I really do love you, and I can change so that I'm the kind of person that you need! Please, Yao, I'm begging you, just give me another chance."

Though Yao hated that he was hurting Ivan, he wasn't going to be swayed by the Russian's begging and pleading and sobbing. It wouldn't be right for him to give Ivan another chance only to let him down again after another month.

"You promised me that if I made a decision like this, you would accept it," said Yao.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but… just because it's your choice, that doesn't make it the right choice," said Ivan.

"The same could be said about you choosing to lie to me," said Yao.

They had barely spoken of Ivan's lies since that day in the Russian's apartment, so Yao's mention probably seemed like a low blow to the other. Ivan had apologised and done his best to rationalise what he had done — he hadn't meant for it to go on for so long, he hadn't done it to hurt Yao, he had only done it so that he would be allowed to visit Yao in hospital — but that didn't change the fact that it _had_ been wrong and it _had_ hurt Yao.

"That's… I never meant to—"

"I know, you've said it a million times. That's not what this is about! I don't love you any more and I doubt I ever will. I'm sorry, but that's how I feel, and I can't change it, so it's best that we go our separate ways," said Yao.

"So you're just going to go back to China and we're never going to see each other again?" asked Ivan.

"I'm not committing to living in China for the rest of my life, but I don't think that we're going to see each other again," said Yao.

"We were going to be together forever," Ivan said, tears spilling down his cheeks, "I really thought that I would end up spending the rest of my life with you. You made me happier than anything else in the world, and I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

"Ivan, you're twenty three. You have your whole life ahead of you. You'll find someone else."

Though Yao was certain that his trite promise wouldn't make Ivan feel any better, he hoped that what he had said was true. Ivan had his faults and the smaller man could not love him any longer, but he didn't deserve to spend the rest of his life alone and miserable.

"People aren't entitled to love, Yao," Ivan said as he wiped the tears from his face, "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, but I doubt I'll ever feel this way about anyone but you."

Yao sighed. There was no point in arguing; no matter what either of them said, Yao would not change his mind and Ivan would not be at peace with the fact that it was over.

"I'm going to go and visit my mom, and while I'm gone you'll have time to pack your things and leave," he said.

"And that's it for us?" asked Ivan.

Yao took a deep breath. It had been a hard decision to make, but it was the right one. He was sure of it.

"That's it for us," he said, "I'm sorry, but this is goodbye."

* * *

><p><strong>This is not the end of the story. No comment on whether it is <em>really<em> the end of their relationship.**


	34. It Doesn't Matter Any More

**Since Yao is in China, all of his dialogue is in Chinese. In past chapters I've italicised text that is supposed to be foreign, but I decided not to in this chapter for aesthetic purposes, thus the need for this note.**

* * *

><p>Yao did not want him.<p>

It was different from the first time that his lover had rejected him; that had been understandable. Of course Yao had been upset when he first found out that Ivan had lied to him, but the Russian had been forgiven — or so he had thought. Even though Yao was willing to give him a second chance, the smaller man couldn't bring himself to love Ivan.

He should have known that no good could come from the lies that he had told. It had started off innocent enough, but it had gone on for far too long. Ivan had tried time and time again to pinpoint where he had crossed the line — had it been keeping up the ruse after Yao had been released from hospital? Telling Yao that he had asked him to move in? Lying in the first place? — but in the end he had given up. Regret didn't change what had happened.

At least they had parted on better terms this time, not that it made much difference to the way Ivan felt.

Without Yao beside him, the future looked bleak. Ivan didn't know if he would ever be able to get over him, nor did he know if he would ever stop hating himself for ruining their chance at being happy together.

* * *

><p>It was final; Yao <em>was<em> moving back to China. His father had been thrilled when Yao had called to tell him of his decision, which he had expected. Yao had also anticipated Chenguang's reaction — initially displeased but ultimately understanding. She had been shocked to hear that he and Ivan were no longer together, and Yao had offered little explanation for that. So far nobody but the two of them knew about Ivan's lies, and Yao didn't plan on changing that — it wasn't anybody's business but theirs.

Yao's friends weren't too surprised about him leaving; after the election they were all out of a job and intended to go their separate ways, though Yao was going much farther afield than any of the others. The fact that they would hardly get to see him after the move didn't bother them much, as Yao had grown apart from the rest of the group during his relationship with Ivan. Though Yao would miss them, he wasn't too hung up about it.

China would give him a fresh start — he would have a new job working for his father's business, he would make new friends and perhaps he would even find himself a new lover, though that was not something he could see happening in the immediate future. Though he was sure that ending his relationship with Ivan had been the right thing to do, the idea of dating someone else wasn't, at least not straight away. He could survive without romance for now.

He hoped that Ivan was doing alright without him. Yao had been tempted to go and visit the Russian, just to make sure that he hadn't done anything stupid like he had done the last time they had parted, but he had decided not to. If Ivan was already on the path to getting over him, visiting him would do no good. It wasn't his job to stick around and make sure that Ivan was alright; he would just have to trust that his ex-lover wouldn't do anything rash. Of course he would feel terrible if Ivan drank himself to death like his father before him, but Yao had his own life to live.

* * *

><p>The days before Yao left for China were a blur. There were many farewells — some stoic, others tearful — and many promises of calling and texting and emailing and keeping in touch. For his family and friends, it was an ending, but for Yao, the move was a new beginning.<p>

It didn't quite seem real until he got off the plane in Shanghai and it suddenly hit Yao that he was _home_. Not physically — he was hundreds of miles from the city where he had been born — but in a different sense. This was where he belonged, where he was supposed to be. He was glad that he had decided to come back to China, and he was glad that his father had made the suggestion.

As Yao stood by the baggage carousel and waited for his suitcase to come around, he began to feel a little nervous about seeing his father again. It had been nearly twenty years since he had last seen the older man in person — Yao could remember, though very vaguely, saying goodbye for the last time before he and Chenguang left the country. He had been eight years old, and at the time he hadn't understood how important that moment was.

Yao was so lost in thought that he almost didn't see his bag, but luckily he snapped himself out of his daydreams in time to grab off the carousel.

Now that he had his luggage, all he needed to do was wait to get through customs and then he would finally be able to see his father. Yao had told Aiguo when the plane was expected to arrive, and the older man had promised that he would be there. He hoped that finding him would be easy, but the airport was very busy and the face that Yao would be looking for in the crowd had aged twenty years since he had last seen it. Of course he had seen photographs of his father since then, but he was still anxious about their reunion.

Yao saw him as soon as he made it into the public part of the airport. Despite the greying hair and the lined face and the glasses, he was unmistakably Aiguo Wang.

"Dad!" Yao called, rushing over to where the older man was sitting.

Aiguo looked up and grinned. It was rare to see him so openly happy — when Yao was a child, he had hardly ever seen his father smile, but the few times it happened, it was because of him. It was so strange to remember how not too long ago, he had thought that his father hated him.

"Yao," the older man said, looking up at his son, "you've grown up. Look at how tall you are!"

Yao laughed. Compared to his American and European friends, he was tiny, but perhaps in China he was considered tall.

"You've become such a handsome young man — though I see you still wear your hair long," said Aiguo.

"Yeah, I guess I still do," said Yao.

"Shall we go straight home, or would you rather get something to eat first?" Yao's father asked.

"I think I'd like to go home. I ate on the plane, so I'm not hungry," said the younger man.

"Very well," said Aiguo.

He stood up — he was still taller than Yao, but only just — and took the younger man's suitcase.

"You must be tired from your long flight. I can take this for you," he said.

Yao thanked his father and followed the older man out of the airport to where the car was parked. Though Yao wasn't familiar with the make and model, he could tell that his father's car was very expensive. It seemed strange to see Aiguo driving a car like this, not just because when Yao was young it would have been well out of his price range, but because the older man had never really enjoyed driving. Yao wondered if he had changed his mind or if it was a matter of convenience.

"What would you like to do when we get home? I could cook you a nice meal, or if you're tired from your flight you could go to sleep… anything you'd like," said Aiguo.

"I think I'd like to have a shower," said Yao, "and then I might just rest for a while."

Though he had slept on the plane, Yao liked the idea of finally being able to lie down. A shower and then bed — perhaps to sleep, perhaps not — sounded like a good idea.

* * *

><p>Yao let out a sigh of contentment and sank beneath the water. Though he had planned on having a shower, as soon as he had seen the bathtub in the en suite bathroom, he had changed his mind and decided to have a bath instead.<p>

Yao came up for air a few seconds later, wiping the water from his eyes and gazing up at the ceiling for a moment before closing them again. It had been too long since Yao had had the chance to relax and not think — he'd been so preoccupied with moving to China and his issues with Ivan that he hadn't had any time to do anything like this.

The warm water enveloped his body, making him feel comfortable, content and a little tired. It would be so easy to fall asleep right then and there, but aside from the fact that he didn't want to risk drowning in the bathtub, Yao wanted to adjust to the time zone difference as quickly as possible, which meant no sleeping during daylight hours. His father had told him that tomorrow they could go out and take in all of the sights and sounds of Shanghai, and Yao didn't want to be too tired and jet lagged to say yes.

The younger man wondered if he would have been so quick to forgive his father had his relationship with Ivan not deteriorated. After all, it Yao's relationship with the Russian had driven a wedge between the two of them and caused Aiguo to break contact with his son for two months. He had apologised before Yao had broken up with Ivan for good, of course, but—

Yao sighed. There was no use thinking it over or pondering useless what ifs. In fact, it would be best to stop doing that and try to keep the past few months off of his mind.

* * *

><p>The day that Yao arrived in China was the first day that Ivan left his apartment since they had broken up. He had spent the past few weeks at home, living on delivery food and spending his days pining for Yao. In short, he was miserable — but even misery can become a bore. Though he doubted that going out would make him feel any better, at least being broken-hearted and unhappy somewhere in the city was a change from being broken-hearted and unhappy at home.<p>

Ivan's first instinct was to sink back into his old ways, visit a bar and use booze and sex to fill the gaping hole that Yao had left in his heart, but something stopped him. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he didn't want to go back to how he had been before meeting Yao.

It wasn't a particularly eventful or interesting outing — all he did was visit the supermarket to buy a few things he'd run out of — but it was nice to get out of the house. He couldn't completely keep Yao off his mind, but it was a lot easier than when he was at home. Ivan wasn't really sure what that signified — he certainly didn't feel any closer to moving on or forgetting Yao — but he felt as if something had changed for the better.

Perhaps there was hope for him even though he had lost Yao. Perhaps some day, a long time from now, he could get over him.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry that this chapter took such a long time. I have no real excuse (unless "I'm lazy" and "I spent all my time reading Homestuck" are good excuses), but I will try my hardest not to take so long with the next update, which will be the last.<strong>


	35. Don't Look Back in Anger

Yao adjusted to his new life in Shanghai with ease. After getting settled into his job and readjusting to life in China, he moved out of his father's luxurious apartment and into a small but modern one a few streets away. He made new friends and even went on a few dates, although admittedly, it was at his father's behest and none of these relationships ever progressed past the first date.

After six months in China, Yao's mother persuaded him to take a short vacation to the United States so that he could visit her and the rest of the family.

Yao had dinner with his father the night before he left. It had become a little tradition of theirs that they would eat together on Friday nights, either a home cooked meal at Yao's place or take out food at Aiguo's. Since Yao would be out of the country by Friday, this week's dinner was happening on Wednesday night.

"You know, Yao," Aiguo said between mouthfuls, "I know I've said it before, but you're a very good cook."

Yao smiled.

"Thank you," he said, "it's something that I really enjoy doing."

"I sometimes wish that I had learned to cook. I thought that I would always have a wife to do it for me, but…"

Aiguo sighed, not bothering to finish his sentence.

It was the first time that Yao had heard him mention Chenguang since he had been back in China, and it was strange to see how his father was affected by the thought of her. His usually serious face betrayed his despondency.

"Are you… um… are you okay?" Yao asked, unsure of what to say.

He had never seen his father upset before, and he didn't know how he should comfort him.

"I'm fine, Yao," Aiguo said, straightening up and doing his best to look nonchalant.

"You can talk to me about it. I'm not a kid any more, I might even be able to help," said Yao.

"It's fine. Perhaps when you get back from your little holiday we can talk," Aiguo said.

Yao could tell that his father didn't want to talk about it, so he didn't push for more information.

"So," said the older man, "are you planning on visiting your… the person you were in a relationship with?"

Yao shook his head.

"Ivan and I aren't together any more, so I don't see what the point of that would be," he said, "I haven't heard from him at all since we broke up."

Aiguo nodded.

"I was just wondering. I thought that maybe he was the reason that you never quite hit it off with any of the women you dated."

"No, that had nothing to do with Ivan," Yao said, "I'm just not really interested in that sort of thing right now."

"Not interested in dating or not interested in women?" asked Aiguo.

Yao shrugged. He had wondered about whether his attraction to Ivan was just circumstantial or whether he was attracted to men in general, but he hadn't come up with an answer. It certainly wasn't the sort of thing that he wanted to discuss with his father.

"I guess I'm too busy with work and stuff to really think about dating right now," said Yao.

Aiguo smiled.

"You are dedicated to your work, and that is a very admirable thing. Just don't do what I did and forget that there is more to life than just that."

"You—"

"This food is delicious," Aiguo said, changing the subject before Yao could say another word, "you should eat up. They don't serve it this good on the plane."

* * *

><p>Lying awake in his bed at night, it didn't take long for Yao's wandering mind to begin thinking about Ivan. He had wondered a few times over the past several months how the other man was coping, but now that he was in the same city as him once more, it was hard to keep Ivan Braginsky off of his mind. He kept thinking of the conversation he had had with his father, the one that suggested that the older man still had feelings for his former wife even after twenty years of separation. What if Ivan did the same? Sure, an eight year marriage that resulted in three children would be a lot harder to get over than a two month relationship, but Yao couldn't help but worry. He wasn't sure why he cared — Ivan was simply <em>not<em> his problem any longer, and yet the Chinese man felt a strange urge to find out how his old lover was doing.

Yao reached for his phone on the bedside table, but stopped before picking it up. Ivan had misplaced his phone while he was in Russia, and Yao didn't know whether or not he had gotten a new one, let alone what it was.

Sighing, Yao rolled over and buried his face into the pillow.

* * *

><p>Yao awoke to the sound of his phone vibrating against the wood of the bedside table. Groggily, he opened his eyes and reached for it, pressing the talk button and bringing it up to his ear.<p>

"Hello?" he croaked.

After a moment of silence, Yao took a look at his phone and realised that he had received a text, not a call. He felt a little foolish as he read the message, which was from his mother.

_Hi sweetie! Cant have lunch with u today, sorry. Xiang is in trouble at school & I have 2 meet with his principal. Ill call u l8r! ~mom_

Since lunch with his mother was the only thing that Yao had had planned for the day, it meant that his schedule was now completely clear. He could spent the day lazing around in his hotel room, or he could organise to meet with one of his friends.

_Or see Ivan_, Yao thought to himself.

He didn't know if visiting Ivan would be a good idea. On one hand, he wanted to see if Ivan was alright, but he also wanted to be done with their relationship, or at least the romantic side of it. It was unlikely that Ivan could talk him into giving it a go once more — they lived on different continents, so even if Yao wanted to it would be entirely impractical — but Yao was worried that he would try. If he did, he would be rejected once more, and Yao didn't want to have to do that to him.

It had been six months since they had last seen each other, which meant that they had been apart for longer than they had been together. Surely Ivan must be over him by now. Then again, Ivan had never really behaved the way a normal person would be expected too.

After much deliberation, Yao decided that he would swing by Ivan's apartment. It was Wednesday, so if Ivan had a job he probably wouldn't even be home. If he wasn't, then Yao would take it as a sign that he should leave him be.

He wasn't quite sure whether he wanted Ivan to be there or not.

* * *

><p>Not a sound could be heard coming from within the apartment, neither before nor after Yao knocked on the door. However, just as he was turning to leave, the door swung open, causing the long-haired man to jump with surprise. He wasn't often nervous, but the idea of seeing Ivan again had done something to him.<p>

The person standing in the open doorway was not Ivan. Instead, a petite redheaded woman stood there.

"You lookin' for Sammy?" she asked, voice gravelly.

Yao shook his head.

"Anna?" the woman asked.

"I'm here to see Ivan," Yao said.

"Then you're shit outta luck, because there ain't an Ivan here," said the woman.

"There used to be. Do you know where he is now?" asked Yao.

"No. We just moved in this week, and the guy who lived here before, he wasn't no Ivan — I think his name was George. I ain't got no clue where you'd find this friend o' yours. Ask the lady who runs this place, maybe she knows," said the red haired woman.

"Right, thanks. Sorry to bother—"

Before Yao could finish his sentence, the woman slammed the door shut.

* * *

><p>The landlady, a middle aged woman named Rachael, was far more helpful. Ivan had given her an address to forward any mail that was send to his old apartment, and she happily told Yao what it was and even gave him directions to that particular suburb. She also mentioned that before he left, Ivan had been living with someone else — a girl, and a pretty one at that, Rachael told him.<p>

Yao mulled this over as he drove to Ivan's new address. He supposed he should be glad that Ivan had moved on and found someone else. He was surprised — he'd figured that he would be the first to start a new relationship — and also a little relieved that at least Ivan's new girlfriend wasn't the angry redhead from his old apartment. Yao had thought for a moment or two when he had opened the door that Ivan was living with her. He hoped that the 'pretty girl' that Rachael had mentioned was nicer.

* * *

><p>Ivan's new house was on a street lined with trees in a pleasant little suburb on the outskirts of the city. Yao parked his car behind Ivan's in the driveway and slowly walked up to the door, knocked lightly and stepped back.<p>

The door was opened by a young woman with short blonde hair who Yao immediately recognized as Ivan's sister Anastasiya.

"Yao," she said when she realised who the man on her doorstep was, "how unexpected to see you! Ivan told me you're living in China now."

Yao smiled and nodded. Anastasiya seemed pleased to see him, so it was unlikely that her brother was openly bitter about the break up.

"Is Ivan home?" Yao asked.

Anastasiya nodded.

"Yes. Please come in, I'm sure he will be happy to see you," she said, beckoning Yao inside.

He followed her through the front door and into the living room, where a very familiar person was sitting on the sofa.

"Ivan, you have a visitor," said Anastasiya.

The Russian man looked up from the newspaper that he was reading and turned around, eyes widening with surprise when he saw Yao.

"Yao!" he exclaimed and broke into a grin.

Ivan got up from his seat and rushed over to where his ex-lover was standing.

"It's good to see you," he said, "but what are you doing here?"

"I'm visiting my family. I thought I might drop by, see how you're doing," said Yao.

"I'm really glad you did," said Ivan, "really, really glad."

"I'll leave you two to talk by yourselves," Anastasiya said as she left the room.

"Come, sit down, tell me all about what you've been doing in China," said Ivan, wandering back over to the sofa.

"Perhaps," Yao said as he sat down beside the Russian, "you could tell me something first. You… how have you been coping with… everything? You seem really happy to see me, which is good because I was worried that you'd be bitter about what happened the last time we spoke, but… I'd like to know how you feel."

Ivan was silent for a moment, and Yao hoped that he hadn't offended him.

"It's been a while, and I've had time to be sad and angry and bitter, and I've had time to get over it. About a month and a half after you left, I organised for my sisters to move over here, and not long after that, I told Anastasiya everything. She was very upset that I had lied to you, and even more upset that I didn't really understand how wrong it was. She convinced me to get counselling, and it helped, it really did," said Ivan.

Yao smiled — he was glad that Ivan was feeling better, and glad that he had his family with him to help him cope.

"That's great," he said, "it's nice to know that you got the help you needed."

Ivan nodded.

"You know what really got me to realise how awful what I did to you was? Natalia. She found out that I'd lied to you, and she told me that she thought it was a clever idea and that she would remember it in case I ever lost my memory, and I started thinking about how I'd feel if I couldn't remember anything and she pretended that she was my girlfriend. And that's what made me see what a terrible thing it was — I mean, I thought what I did was okay because we ended up loving each other, but it was exactly the same as what Natalia was suggesting, and the idea of her manipulating me seemed so wrong, so how could what I did be right? Yao, it's really good to see you again, but the real reason that I'm so glad you're here is because I want to apologise for what I did. I'm so sorry that I lied to you, it was a shitty thing to do and I really regret it," said Ivan.

"I accept your apology. But Ivan, I really hope that you don't think this means we're getting back together, because—"

"No! I never thought that at all. I mean, it wouldn't work, would it? Not with you living in China and me living here. And there's lots of other reasons, so I completely understand what you're saying. I blew my chance with you, and I accept that," said Ivan.

Yao breathed a sigh of relief. He had worried that Ivan was apologising in the hopes of being given another chance — he was probably single, as the girl that Rachael had mentioned would have been either Anastasiya or Natalia. It was nice to know that at last they could see eye to eye on the subject of their relationship.

"So, Yao, tell me about your life since we last met," said Ivan.

"Well, I've been living in Shanghai and working for my dad, and it's been good. I've made some new friends, and I really enjoy my job, so yeah, moving was a good decision," said Yao.

Ivan smiled.

"You know, Yao… remember how on the night that we first met, before I made a move on you, we just talked and laughed and it was almost like we could become good friends? Do you think we could go back to that, and just be friends? I understand if you don't want to, but I thought that since you took the time to come and see me, maybe you would like to," said Ivan.

Yao took a moment to think this over — despite everything that had happened, he didn't hate Ivan, and he wasn't opposed to the idea of staying friends. He had never considered that Ivan would want to have a non-romantic relationship with him, but he could see that the other man had changed for the better since they had last seen each other.

"I like that idea. I like it a lot," said Yao.

Ivan grinned and leaned over to give Yao a friendly hug.

"Thank you," he said, voice muffled by the other man's shoulder, "I promise you won't regret it."

This time, Yao was sure that he wouldn't.

* * *

><p><strong>That's it. <em>One Little Lie <em>is finished. A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited, followed or even just read it — I appreciate every single one of you. When I started writing this story, I never dreamed that it would become the longest RoChu story on this site (and the longest story I have ever written), nor did I anticipate getting so much feedback. It makes me unbelievably happy to know that I've written something that so many people like, and I hope that the ending hasn't changed that.**

**Now that the story is over, I suppose I owe you all an explanation as to why things turned out this way. I can imagine that a bittersweet ending must be a bit jarring considering how fluffy and romantic many of the earlier chapters were. I'll admit that I entertained the thought of a happy ending — who doesn't want their OTP to live happily ever after? — but ultimately I decided to end things this way, as I couldn't see Yao falling back in love with Ivan. But friendship? That seemed plausible. As for where they go from here, well, their lives will doubtlessly continue after the story is over, and so you can imagine whatever you like…**


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